


Every Me and Every You

by yourfavoritetsundre



Series: Duality Project [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Depression, Hospitalization, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourfavoritetsundre/pseuds/yourfavoritetsundre
Summary: Lance just wants to have a good senior year at Garrison University. He wants to be a good server at the restaurant he works at. He wants to go paint-balling with his friends and drink wine at girls night. He doesn't want Keith to show back up after ditching all of them like nothing's wrong. He definitely doesn't need him moving in with him.~*~An accident in the weight room knocks Lance unconscious, and though everything seems fine he's not waking up. The team starts to realize just how unbalanced they are without him, and how badly they need him. Especially Keith.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> This is not a Season 7 Fix-It. This is specifically designed to fit between seasons 7 and 8, no matter what happens in 8. I respect the creators of the show and the immense amount of work they do. I know how much time I spend on my fics so I can only imagine the hours they put in.  
> I know we're all feeling a little down right now, but please just take a breath and remember all the quality Klance moments we did get.

_ Keith walked into the large gym, surprised to find it occupied. Normally, no one was here at this hour. Especially lately. Everyone had so much to do, so much to rebuild. He always made time for training, but he rarely saw anyone else… _

_ Lance and his sister Veronica were struggling by the weight machines, Lance laughing loudly as he held a tablet over her head. Veronica wasn’t short by any means, but Lance was just tall enough and slippery as an eel as she tried to grab it.  _

_ Keith guessed that siblings never really grew up.  _

_ “Lance! Just give it!”  _

_ “Come on, Veronica! Just one match!”  _

_ “I have stuff to do! And I’m not even in my work out clothes - “ _

_ “Then go change!”  _

_ When was the last time he had seen Lance smile like that? Sure, the past few weeks had been rough. Really rough. But usually he was the light in the darkness… _

_ “Lance, I don’t have time to mess around.”  _

_ “Neither do I. Hurry and change.”  _

_ Lance finally caught sight of Keith, and for some reason his smile faded. Just a little bit, but enough for Keith to notice.  _

_ Veronica finally succeeded in grabbing her tablet, but she had to push into her brother as she grabbed it. His feet tangled under him, his blue eyes went wide as he fell backwards. Keith started forward to...he had no idea. There was no way he’d make it across the room to catch him.  _

_ Lance went down like a tree, the back of his head landing solidly on a support bar for a weight machine. Veronica yelled his name and he blinked in shock at the ceiling as Keith finally reached them.  _

_ “Lance?” Keith asked frantically. “Lance? You alright?”  _

_ Lance blinked at him again and Veronica gently lifted his torso into her lap. She made a startled noise as the realized there was blood on the weight machine.  _

_ Lance closed his eyes… _

~*~

Lance was sitting on a park bench, a laptop open in his lap. It was a beautiful day. Clear blue sky, a huge old tree shading his bench. Red brickwork contrasted with the lush green grass beyond. Young kids, students, hurried across his view, some looking nervous and some laughing. Some entered the building across from him...the library. 

He was supposed to be doing something. He stared at the document open in front of him. Somehow it felt wrong. Homework? It couldn’t be homework. He hadn’t had homework since he…

Since he what? 

Someone...someone was calling his name. They sounded familiar and panicked and...in the back of his head. He looked around...everyone was just chatting amongst themselves, no one paid him any attention…he frowned at the laptop again. Why was he...where the hell was he?

“Hey, buddy.” 

Lance looked up to see Hunk grinning at him. Hunk. His best friend. He was holding two coffees. 

“Hunk!” he smiled, putting aside his laptop. Everything snapped into place. “How was lab?” 

Hunk sighed and sat next to him, handing over one of the paper cups. “Miserable.”

“I told you not to take an 8 am lab.” Lance reminded. 

“Yeah, yeah. What are you working on?” 

Lance groaned and looked at his laptop again. “Response to the reading that was assigned for my Queer Lit class.”

“Why are you taking that again?” 

“Cause it covered like three gen eds.” Lance took a sip of his coffee and smiled. Hunk always picked out the best flavors for him. And now, after working in the pastry kitchen of the fine dining restaurant Lance served at over the summer, he had gotten even better. “This is amazing.”

“Pumpkin spice with white chocolate.”

“Holy shit.” 

“Yeah. Are you working later?” 

“Yeah, I have a shift. Why?” 

“Pidge and I were going to go to dollar beers.”

“I’ll try to join you when I’m done.” Lance looked back at his paper and rested his coffee on the bench next to him. “Alright, I’ve got like fifteen minutes to finish this. Any thoughts on Aaron McKinney’s sexuality in The Laramie Project?” 

“I thought that was a movie.” 

“It was originally a play, you savage. Plays are literature.” 

Hunk rolled his eyes and sipped his coffee. He looked across the quad, and broke out with a smile. “Hey! Look who’s with Pidge!”

Lance looked up and first found the petite girl hunched under the weight of her backpack, the tired look on her face and wild orange hair clearing the path in front of her. 

“I had no idea he was coming back!” 

Walking alongside Pidge was a guy with infuriatingly outgrown hair and deep eyes that seemed to flash purple in the sunlight. A leather jacket was slung lazily over his shoulder, smile on his face as he listened to whatever Pidge was saying. 

Keith.

Lance’s stomach leapt into his throat and he snapped his laptop shut. 

“Lance? Where are you going?”

“I just realized I forgot something at home.” he lied, standing and snatching up his bag. The whirlwind of movement knocked over his coffee, spilling the sweet, hot liquid across the brick. “Damn it - “

“Don’t you have class in fifteen minutes?”

“It’ll be fine.” 

“Your apartment is fifteen minutes away.”

Lance ignored him and tucked his laptop under his arm. “See you later.” 

Lance booked it out of the quad, in the opposite direction of Keith, Pidge, and his apartment. He could feel Hunk watching him as he went, and it just made his pace faster. His heart pounded in his ears, an outcome of a whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. 

Fear. 

Rage.

Joy.

He focused on the rage. 

Stupid Keith Kogane. How dare he just show up here again, like he hadn’t just disappeared without a word after winter break last year. Leaving his half-brother Shiro to make excuses for him. Leaving the restaurant without an expo, so Lance had to do it until a replacement was found. Lance was a horrible expo. 

Leaving Lance alone…

_ He had to go _ , part of him whispered.  _ He had to go with the Blade, find himself… _

What the hell was the Blade? Capital b? 

Lance shook his head and left the path, cutting across the grass to a modern building with huge glass windows showing a white atrium. Head in the clouds, his mama always said. He’d never learn…

Lance took out his phone to double check his classroom, and found a text from Pidge. 

**Hey loser, where did you go running off to?**

Lance sighed. 

**Forgot something. I’ll see you later.**

Room 214. Alright. He could sit in the hall and finish his work. 

He wouldn’t think about stupid Keith and his stupidly deep eyes and how infuriatingly good he was at literally everything. He wouldn’t think about how Keith just left, or how they had been such good friends, and how they had become such a lethal paintball tag team they had sponsors approaching them. Because Keith had made his choice very clear. He had walked away from Garrison University and their dorky group of misfits without so much as a wave, and Pidge and Hunk could forgive him for it but the hell if Lance was going to. 

Lance finished his paper quickly, and contemplated replacing his coffee before class started. Before he could really make a decision, the previous class was vacating the room. He slipped in and choose a seat in the back, pulling out his notebook and a pen, as well as his copy of The Laramie Project for today’s discussion. He flipped to act two and started to scan it. 

The room filled up around him, he grunted and kicked aside his bag when the kid next to him asked to plug his laptop in. He didn’t understand how people could pay attention like that. He had to take handwritten notes to learn anything.

There was a slight giggle to his left, followed by whispers. He looked around at them, then at the front.

Keith was talking to the professor, collecting a syllabus and apologizing for missing the first week. Lance groaned and rubbed his eyes.

Damn it.

He had to admit, Keith looked...god damn it, he looked good. He had always been sort of pretty but now he was just...gorgeous. And muscular. 

Lance tried desperately to shut that part of his brain down before it went down the roads that would get him in trouble. 

Keith turned and locked eyes with him. Lance scowled and looked back at his notebook. The class was loud as they settled in, but he could still hear Keith’s approach. 

“Hey.” Keith greeted, sitting next to him.

“Bite me.” Lance snapped.

Keith sighed. “Look, Lance - “

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.” the professor said, moving a few piles of papers as he settled in. “I’m assuming everyone did the reading, since everyone turned in the homework.”

Keith didn’t try to talk to Lance again, and he bolted as soon as the class was over. 

~*~

_ Lance is unconscious, but the doctors say not to worry. His brain activity is fine, and he’ll wake up soon. His parents sit in his room and wait, and his mother is getting visibly distressed. Veronica had been crying at some point, and now she just sits in silence. _

_ Keith doesn’t know why he stays. Or where the rest of the team is. He just...he has to be here for him.  _

_ Maybe if Lance us trapped in a hospital bed he’ll be forced to answer when Keith asks him what’s wrong. Why he’s so distant. What the death jokes are about. _

_ Unconscious Lance looks so small and frail, like he was somehow younger. The white halo of gauze around his head makes it look so much worse than it is, the doctors say. He’ll wake up any time now, they say.  _

_ The hours pass. Lance does not wake up. _

~*~

Since seeing Keith in the morning, Lance’s day just seemed to get worse. After spilling the delicious coffee Hunk bought him and finding out Keith was in his queer lit class (seriously?), he went to his genetics lab and had to shell out five dollars to rent a lab coat because he had forgotten his. By then, Hunk was blowing up his phone about how rude he had been to Keith in the morning. When he finally got to work fifteen minutes late, there were three new menu changes and no one had bothered to start setting up the main dining room for service. Probably because Lance was always early and he usually did it.

At least his manager, Shiro, was in a good mood. Probably because Keith was back. 

Damn him. 

So that was how Lance ended up at dollar beers after his shift bitching about a salad. 

“It’s a side salad, Hunk!” Lance cried, slamming his hands on the bar. “It is a fucking salad, with tomatoes and croutons. The only thing special about it is the foamed cheese. The most hipster chef thing ever. Altea is a fine dining restaurant! How am I supposed to be a professional? How am I supposed to take my job seriously?” 

Pidge snorted. “You’re like the least-serious Captain they have.”

“And it’s listed as an Heirloom Tomato Salad. I had to comp one today because when people read that they expect, I don’t know, mostly tomatoes? Instead...SIDE SALAD!”

Hunk made a face. “Well, did you tell Chef?”

“Why? So I can get fired?” Lance took a long sip of his beer. “You know he has no respect for the people who actually sell his food.” 

“He’s not that bad.” 

“Yeah, cause you’re like a pastry prodigy and he’s upset he can’t lure you away from the fascinating world of engineering.” Lance looked up at their friend and bartender, Allura. “Can I have another one?” 

“You still have half of that one.” she said loftily. 

Lance rolled his eyes and chugged his beer, making Pidge cackle. He made mental apologies to his tomorrow self, who would probably be hungover. Not that it was different from any other Wednesday morning. Dollar Beer Tuesdays had become ritual over the summer since he, Hunk and Pidge were all twenty-one and were all in town. Lance had stayed to work and save some money, Pidge’s family lived in the area and Hunk was doing robotics research with Pidge while also working with Lance. 

Lance put his glass down and smirked at Allura. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled and went to get him another beer. 

“So, we were thinking about going paintballing, before the season ends.” Pidge said.

“Great.” Lance grinned. 

“Yeah, Keith seemed pretty excited too.” 

“Do we have to invite Keith?” Lance groaned. 

“Seriously?” Pidge asked incredulously. “You guys are like, unbeatable.” 

“What is your problem?” Hunk demanded. “You guys were best friends!” 

_ He left me, all of us, for some crazy ninja gang and almost killed himself and then disappeared and then comes back like nothing ever was wrong or broken -  _

What?

“He left.” Lance spat. “He didn’t even say goodbye. We have no idea what he was doing. And - “

“Did you try maybe asking him?” 

“I don’t need to.” He accepted his new beer from Allura. “Don’t want to hear it.” 

“Lance, I really don’t want you to go back to how you were.” 

“Well we won’t, because I won’t speak to him.” 

“Oh, my God.” Pidge groaned. 

Lance knew he was being childish. And an asshole. But he didn’t want to deal with the whole can of worms Keith brought to the table. Or how everything involving him always seemed so much more complicated than it really had to be. He just wanted to enjoy his senior year with Hunk and Pidge. 

“Well, too late for that.” Allura said, pointing at the door. 

The three of them turned to see Keith entering the bar, followed closely by Shiro. Shiro smiled and waved at them, and Keith scowled at Lance. Lance turned around and drank more beer. 

“Hey, everyone.” Shiro said, stepping up to the bar and wrapping Pidge in a one-armed hug. “What’s this I hear about paintball?” 

“We’re going for paintball?” Allura grinned. “I’ll text Coran.” 

“Where is he tonight?” Hunk asked. 

“He took the night off. Keith! It is so good to see you! How are you?” 

“Good.” Keith smiled. Lance could see it in the mirror behind the bar and hated it. 

“You had a good trip then?” 

“Yeah. It was...I mean, yeah. It was alright.”

Lance listened to the chatter around him, feeling momentarily lost as all his friends seemed to almost...forget him...not need him…

“Lance!”

Lance turned to see Shiro watching him. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Aren’t you glad Keith got his job back?” 

Lance frowned. “Keith’s going to expo again?”

“He expo’d tonight. What? You didn’t notice that none of your food got messed up?” 

Lance looked at Keith, who was standing next to his half-brother and studying Lance. Even when they were on good terms, Keith and Lance never saw each other at work after Lance was promoted from food runner. Keith stayed in the kitchen and Lance stayed on the floor.

“You still work there?” Keith asked incredulously. “I thought you would have been fired by now.”

Lance scowled. “And I can’t believe Chef didn’t make you shave off your mullet.”

“It’s not a - I didn’t see you there.”

“Cause I’m so good I don’t have to go to the kitchen. Also, my name is on the tickets. The tickets that are literally your job to read.”

“Sorry, didn’t see any for The Tailor, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days…”

Lance was irritated and couldn’t help but to smile as he and Keith slipped into their old routine. This was easy. The shots fired back and forth. And even though Keith was annoyed, because Lance knew all of his buttons and exactly how hard to push them, he was...fine. Smiling, even. 

Calm and centered, Lance thought as Keith listened to a story from the summer that Hunk was telling him. Whatever he had done on his trip had been good for him. In a lot of ways. 

So, this was fine. Lance could pretend everything was fine, like he always did, and Keith didn’t have to know how hurt he was. Not like Keith ever picked up on social cues anyway. 

“Oh, hey, Lance?” 

Lance looked over at Shiro, who had an odd look on his face. Almost conniving.

“Yeah?” 

“Your apartment allows pets, right? Specifically cats?” 

Lance rose an eyebrow. He had almost forgotten...Keith came attached to a badly tempered ginger cat named Red. Lance had never actually met Red, but he’d heard enough stories. Did Shiro want him to take in Red for a while? He knew Keith had been staying with Shiro…

“Yep. And dogs under 35 pounds.” 

“And you still have that spare bedroom, right?”

Where was this going? 

Keith turned around and groaned. “Shiro…”

“Keith, you can’t sleep on my couch forever.” Shiro sighed. “All the reasonably priced apartments are rented out and at least you know Lance.”

Lance was listing a hundred reasons why this was a horrible idea. One, he was still mad at Keith. Two, even when they got along there was tension between them. Three, there was a dark place in the back of his mind that he liked to ignore that told him to do nasty things to the raven haired boy. 

“Shiro, you realize there’s a reason Lance doesn’t have a roommate, right?” Hunk pointed out. 

There’s another good reason this was a horrible idea. Lance was a difficult roommate. He liked his space, and his routine. Plus the fact that he often had family members turning up unannounced to stay with him. He knew he was hard to live with, and after Hunk decided to room with Pidge their sophomore year, Lance decided not to put anyone else through living with him. Hunk only survived their freshman year with Lance because he had the patience of a saint. 

Keith did not. 

“It’ll be fine.” Shiro said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

Still, Shiro must really want Keith out to even consider asking. Lance knew he had been having a tough time since his ex-fiance died  _ defending the Earth from the Galra. He had lasted the longest -  _

Car crash. Adam died in a car crash. He and Shiro had broken up years before, but Shiro was still crushed when he found out. 

Keith was scowling at Shiro. He probably thought living with Lance was the worst idea ever. Doomed for failure. Just like anything else they tried to do together. 

But Shiro needed his help…

Lance sighed. “Rent’s six hundred a month. Split utilities. I’ll need a deposit if you’re bringing Red.” 

Keith scoffed. “Six hundred?” 

“I have a nice apartment. And this is an expensive area.” Lance studied his nails. “Take it or leave it.” 

All their friends were looking between the two of them, a deciding moment in their friendship. Keith’s brow was furrowed as he considered - Shiro’s sanity and space, or his own. 

“Fine.” Keith finally sighed. “I’ll take it.” 

Lance’s stomach did somersaults, and he wasn’t sure if it was happiness or nerves. 

~*~

_ Keith paced the hallway. He couldn’t sit in the room anymore. More of Lance’s family had showed up, looking concerned.  _

_ Shiro came down the hallway and seemed surprised to see Keith. “Hey, you’re still here?”  _

_ Keith nodded, not trusting his voice.  _

_ “What? Did he kick you out or something?”  _

_ Keith forgot the nervous energy bubbling in his stomach for a moment. “What? No. He’s still out.”  _

_ “It’s been almost a day.”  _

_ “I know.”  _

_ “What are the doctors saying?” _

_ “Not to worry.”  _

_ “And you’re worried.” _

_ “What does it look like?” _

_ Shiro grabbed his arm and held him still. “Keith. Stop.”  _

_ Keith opened his mouth to say...anything. To yell. Where were the others? Where was Hunk? He was supposed to be his best friend! And Pidge...Lance loved her like a little sister and she’s not pacing the hallways. And fucking Allura… _

_ But his throat felt like it was closing on him. Shiro wrapped him in a tight hug, crushing him to his chest.  _

_ “I’m going to call the others, and get Coran to take a second look at his scans.” Shiro said firmly. “I’m sure there’s something that they’re missing. Just...calm down, okay? He’s going to be fine.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some quick notes on fine dining restaurants, for those who have never worked in one.   
> A lot of places, and we're talking about the kind of service that wins awards, will have smaller sections with more people to ensure better service. A Captain is a server, expected to know ever step of service, ever ingredient in the food, and everything about any beverage on the menu. They'll be the face, the main person interacting with the table. (I imagine Lance would be great at this, and he'd get really into wine.) Then there's a Captain's Assistant, who is the extra set of hands and eyes on the floor. A food runner would be a completely separate position. The expo, Keith's job, basically calls out tickets to the kitchen staff and coordinates the food runners.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance enjoys the finer things in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late title change! It's always really hard for me to title stories, but I think this one works way better. It's from "Every You Every Me" by Placebo, which if you don't know Placebo they are wonderful in a dark and dirty sexy kind of way.

Lance had a very nice apartment, thank you very much. He had worked hard on it. Collected old furniture from his siblings and street corners, found cheap prints of artwork he liked and framed them. Color coordinated his rugs with his pillows. His plates and bowls matched. He splurged on nice sheets and a white quilt, and piles of blankets for the winter. 

He had the second floor of a narrow brick building. It looked a little beaten up from outside, but the owner had redone the floors and bathroom before Lance moved in, and the kitchen was a good size for how often it was used. The floor plan was a little weird, Lance’s bedroom at the front of the house and the spare through the kitchen at the back of the house, but Lance liked to think it gave it character. 

He had his routine. He had his classes and worked four nights a week. He arranged his schedule to have Sundays and Mondays completely off, because he liked doing errands on Sunday and nothing on Monday. And no one took Mondays off, so if he wanted to do something like a movie or go out to eat during the day it was never crowded. He went to the farmer’s market every week. He spent afternoons that he didn’t have class or work doing homework with Hunk and Pidge. 

Keith didn’t move in until Saturday, meaning that he basically dropped off his stuff (a duffle, two milk crates of books, and a cardboard box of junk) and his cat before they both headed to work. 

Lance kept himself busy on Sunday, telling himself he wasn’t avoiding his new roommate he was giving him time to settle in. Luckily, Keith was spending his Monday with Shiro so Lance could lay around at home undisturbed. Do homework with The Office running through a million episodes as background noise. 

Lance knows he’s not a great roommate, and he’s fussy and likes things a certain way. He’ll be good about doing dishes once a week, but then lets them pile up for the other six days. He was particular about the vegetables that were kept in the house, only the freshest would do, but he’d cheap out on store brand canned and boxed items. Then there was the insistence on eco-friendly cleaners, soaps, detergents, and trash bags. Plus he liked puttering around in the morning in his bathrobe, which apparently was weirder than wandering around your house naked.

But Shiro needed Keith out and Keith really couldn’t sleep on a couch for an entire semester. And Jesus, the guy could be so awkward, Lance couldn’t imagine him trying to move into a house of people he didn’t know. At least Lance knew him. 

Well, he used to. He still wasn’t sure about this grizzled, self-assured Keith. 

But it was a favor to Shiro, so Lance tried. He tried really hard. He ignored the long black hairs that filled the bathroom counter and clogged the drain, because Keith shed like a girl. He ignored the lump on the couch that Keith was in the mornings - Keith was not a morning person, and needed at least an hour with a coffee before he could do anything. He ignored the bad tempered cat, who loved to cuddle close to Lance one minute then try to scratch his face off the next. He ignored the two in one shampoo, even though he’d really be doing Keith a favor if he gave him that lecture. He ignored the stench of paint that Keith brought home with him from his independent study hours. 

Keith is trying too, he knows. He knows he’s annoyed that Lance always has music playing or the TV on as background noise because he can’t stand the silence, but he doesn’t say anything. Lance could see the vein throbbing in his temple when Lance explained that they couldn’t put produce in the bottom drawers of the fridge, because they’d probably forget about it and it would rot. Keith likes everything in its place, so the messy fridge bothers him. The piles of old homeworks and notebooks on the kitchen table bothers him. Lance’s refusal to use the air conditioner unless it’s above 95 degrees out and insistence that all the windows stay open at all times bothers him. 

But he doesn’t say anything, maybe because it’s Lance’s apartment and maybe because Shiro wanted them to make it work. Lance was still avoiding the issue of Keith’s disappearance last semester, and Keith doesn’t bring it up either so they don’t talk about it. In fact, they don’t interact a lot at home. Lance can feel the broken edges of their friendship like glass under his feet, but he doesn’t do anything about it and he doesn’t necessarily know exactly why. Maybe because it was a little easier like this. 

The toothpaste thing was what made Lance snap. 

Lance found the toothpaste about two weeks into Keith living with him. It was brand new - Lance definitely would have noticed it before hand if it wasn’t. Lance marched into the living room brandishing the toothpaste.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded.

Keith looked up and blinked at Lance, a little bit dazed. Lance figured he probably did look a little bit ridiculous in his fluffy white robe and bedhead. Keith was still in the ‘not awake’ stages of his morning, in boxers and a black Jack Daniels t-shirt. 

“Toothpaste?” Keith guessed. 

“It’s Tom’s brand.” Lance hissed. “Do you understand how bad this crap is?” 

Keith groaned. “Lance, it’s toothpaste.” 

“No, it’s not! That’s the point! Look, every year, the freshman biology classes do this experiment where they put little paper disks soaked in mouthwash on a plate of blood agar - “

“What?” 

“- and grow their mouth bacteria on it. And all the mouthwashes have this nice ring of no growth, except the Tom’s, where there’s bacteria all over that paper.” 

Keith was blinking at him still. Finally he said, “Lance, I’m an art major. I have no idea what you just said.” 

“I said, that this toothpaste doesn’t quiznacking work!” 

“It was on sale!”

“Well, I hope you save the money for when your teeth rot out of your head.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry. I thought you would be happy because it’s organic and environmentally friendly and everything - “

“What are you trying to say?”

“Seriously? You bring reusable bags to Walmart.” 

“I’m saving sea turtles, Keith! What does that have to - no. Whatever. Point is, this does not qualify as toothpaste.” 

Lance leaned over Keith to open a window behind the couch.

“What are you - Lance! What the hell?” 

Lance tossed the offensive toothpaste outside and slammed the window shut. He yelped as Keith smacked him in his side. 

“That was my toothpaste!” 

“I’m saving your teeth!”

“Now I don’t have any! Now my teeth will really rot!”

“Just use mine, idiot.”

Keith shoved him again, and this time he collapsed down onto the opposite end of the couch. Lance lazily shoved his heel into Keith’s stomach, which was...surprisingly solid. After another minute of shoving, they both settled down. Keith picked up his coffee and sat with it near his face, closing his eyes. Lance tried to focus on the news clips on the TV. 

He still didn’t know why Keith had left. 

But this was fine, he kept telling himself. 

Lance got up and reached over to swat Keith. “Get dressed. We need groceries.”

“I’ll give you money.” 

“No, no, no. Roommate bonding, Keith. Besides, I have to teach you about toothpaste.”

~*~

_ Hunk ran his hands through his hair. “Coran, what are you saying?”  _

_ Coran had just gotten out of a consultation with Lance’s doctor. Now, finally, everyone was here. Lance’s entire family was crammed into his room, leaving his team out into the hallway. Looking appropriately worried and concerned. _

_ Keith leaned against the wall and tried to keep his expression neutral. He could feel his anger bubbling underneath the surface. Anger was easier and better than worry, and fear.  _

_ “They’re saying his brain waves are normal because...they are normal.” Coran explained. “Normal for someone who is awake.” _

_ “But why isn’t he...is he paralyzed?” Pidge asked.  _

_ “No. Something is wrong but...we don’t know what.”  _

_ The silence hung heavy around them. For fuck’s sake, Hunk looked like he was going to cry.  _

_ Keith turned and stormed away. Everyone called after him, and he turned and punched the wall. No one called after that.  _

~*~

Lance finally convinced Keith to leave the house by buying him the largest coffee he could from the 7/11 up the street, then basically shuffled him around the farmer’s market. Keith seemed to fully wake up while Lance was looking at candy cane beets. 

Keith gave a quiet snort, and Lance looked over to see him eyeing Lance’s t-shirt. Lance looked down at the bubblegum pink printed with a unicorn and “Hail Satan” in bubble letters. 

“What?” 

Keith shook his head. “Just...forget it.” 

Lance chose his beets and moved on to look at the huge selection of tomatoes. 

Keith sighed and sipped his coffee. “Lance...what’s going on?” 

Lance turned and rose an eyebrow at him. “Uhm...tomatoes?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Lance felt the straps of his tote biting into his shoulder, already weighed down with pickles and apples from other stalls. Lance could see his reflection in Keith’s sunglasses.

“Nevermind.” 

Keith decided to get extremely interested in kale of all things. 

_ Lance remembered another day like this, when he and Keith were at a market under a blue sun. Except they weren’t there to shop. Lance lay flat on a roof, keeping an eye on the team through his sniper scope. Keith crouched next to him, ready to slide down the building to reach ground level. There was a slave market, and they -  _

Focus. What was wrong with him? A slave market? A blue sun? 

Lance let his gaze wander over to Keith, who was pretty distracting. He was still wearing the shirt he had slept in, black jeans and a dark hoodie. He was pretty and dirty, the air of the bad boy that Lance knew he absolutely was not. 

“Where did you go?” Lance blurted out. 

Keith looked back at him again, surprised. 

“You just left out of nowhere. No explanation! Our paintball team was ruined, then Adam died and Shiro was a wreck. Not to mention the restaurant, and all the shit that happened there.” 

“Lance - “

“I thought we were friends! And you just took off! We were supposed to have a great semester! The four of us! And hand out with Shiro and Allura and Coran and Matt and you - “

Keith grabbed Lance’s shoulders and shook him gently. “Breathe.” he reminded. 

Lance took a deep breath. 

Oh, God, what was he doing? He was at the damn farmer’s market flipping out on Keith. They could of had this conversation at home. Or in a coffee shop. But no. Lance had to do this over the heirloom tomatoes, the middle aged hippies running the stall looking at him like he had gone crazy, Keith looking at him with a completely unreadable expression. 

“Lance, I’m sorry.” Keith told him, searching his face. “I didn’t realize...I went to look for my mom.” 

Lance froze. 

Keith’s mom? That was...kind of a big deal. She had left when he was a baby, and then his dad died.

_ Shiro took him in, taking him to the Garrison… _

Shiro’s parents took him in. When they took jobs in Tokyo, Shiro took care of Keith. They always said they were half brothers because Keith hated the pitying looks he got when the truth came out. Lance knew how sensitive he was about the whole subject. 

“I didn’t really think and...I should have been here for Shiro with Adam and I had no idea that you...I’m sorry.” 

“Did you find her?” 

“What?”

“Your mom. Did you find her?” 

Keith smiled slightly. “Yeah. She...she’s not what I expected but she’s my mom, I guess. She had no idea my dad had died and...well, she’s living in California now. With her new husband.” 

“What’s he like?”

“He’s alright. Little stern but...I think I grew on him.” He sighed. “Anyway, I spent some time with them and...I should’ve been back sooner.”

Lance cocked his head to the side, and Keith looked away. No wonder he seemed...better. Like a missing puzzle piece had turned up under the couch and was clicked into place. Keith had a better idea of where he came from. 

“Just...give me a warning, next time, alright?” Lance grumbled. “Or at least a text.” 

Keith grimaced. “Sorry.” 

“Like, we care about you, dude. You were gone for, what, eight months? You texted Shiro now and then but not us and...we were worried.” Lance looked at the tomatoes again and blindly choose a basket, desperate to play it off as cool. “Anyway. Grab a thing of potatoes for me?”

Keith blinked in shock at him, but Lance just turned away. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

Lance found himself staring at a bundle of sunflowers while Keith grabbed a plastic bin of potatoes. He always liked sunflowers. They were messy and complicated - all those bright yellow petals jammed together with little rhyme or reason. And the way they grew, taking over every part of the soil to shoot up higher than anything around them, always facing the sun, always worshiping. Some people found them annoying, the way they demanded your attention. 

Keith came back, looked between Lance and the flowers, and sighed before grabbing a bundle. “Come on, let’s pay.” 

“I - what - “ 

“They’ll look good on the coffee table.” 

They stepped into line, and Lance gave him a cheeky grin. “Two weeks with me and you’re already trying to be a home decor pro.” 

“Shut up.” 

It was their turn to pay, and they dug through their pockets for cash. Keith paid for the flowers separately, and Lance tried not to think what that meant. What he wanted it to mean. 

Christ. Stop it. 

“Sorry.” Keith said again, holding out the flowers. “For ditching.” 

Lance sighed and took the bundle. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.” 

He smiled slightly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They left the parking lot the market was held in, heading for where they parked Lance’s truck a few blocks away. Lance slowed as they approached a boutique wine store, then swerved right through the door. It took a few seconds for Keith to realize he was gone and follow him in. 

“What are you doing?” Keith asked as he caught up. “We’re supposed to be buying groceries.” 

“Wine is a grocery.” Lance shrugged. 

“You have a ton of wine at home.” 

“Yeah, but I need stuff for Girls Night.” 

“What?” 

Lance ignored him and headed for the reisling section. Girls night happened about once a month. Himself, Pidge and Allura would basically get together and drink wine and talk shit about everyone they knew. They could never agree on a type of wine, so usually Lance just ended up buying them each their own bottle.

Lance had gotten into wine after he started working at the restaurant, Altea. Part of his job was knowing about the wine they offered and how to talk about it. His siblings teased him ruthlessly about how snobby he had gotten, but he didn’t think it was snobby. He liked good wine. It didn’t mean it had to be expensive.  

“What the hell is girls night?” Keith asked.

Lance sighed and found Pidge’s favorite bottle of reisling. She liked the super dry ones that tasted like green apple juice and smelled like bug spray. Weirdo. “It’s when I hang out with Pidge and Allura and drink wine and gossip and do face masks and junk.”

Lance grabbed the bottle and glanced at Keith. “What? What’s with that stupid look on your face?” 

“Just thinking about all the times I got my ass kicked in middle school for liking boys.” Keith muttered. “While you pick out pink wine for face mask night.”

“Hey, there’s a whole world of rose out there,Mullet.” Lance studied the store’s tasting notes for an interesting looking bottle. “I never really had that problem. My brother Marco is like, huge, so no one touched me in high school. He beat me up plenty, though.” 

“Seriously?”

“I grew up in a house with three boys, Keith. We would beat the shit out of eachother. Veronica was hands down the scariest, though. She’s crazy strong. Throat chops you when you least expect it.” 

Keith snorted. “I’ve met your sister. She’s skinnier than you.” 

“Yeah, and has like eight percent body fat. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with her.” Lance paused in his scanning of the wine. “Anyway, Keith, some of us have to actually put effort in to look beautiful.”

Sometimes Lance said things like that and even he didn’t know if he was trying to flirt with Keith or not. He just knew that he could never look Keith in the eye when he said them, and he thanked the heavens that Keith never seemed to notice. 

“But you never got your ass kicked in middle school?”

“Nah. Like I said, Marco was terrifying. I never really thought of the face mask thing as weird or feminine. I mean, Pidge gets to run around in cargo shorts and rugby sweaters and Allura’s like the most beautiful woman ever and she gets down in the mud to kickass at paintball. I like to take care of my skin and get manicures. So what?” 

Keith was quiet after that, bobbing along after Lance as he finally decided on a rose and then found a chardonnay for Allura. Lance paid for all the wine and they resumed their trek to the truck.

~*~

_ Keith finally thought he had found a secluded spot where he could sit and mope when he saw Acxa coming down the hallway. He ducked into a doorway, praying she hadn’t seen him.  _

_ Christ, like he didn’t have enough on his plate. She just seemed to follow him around everywhere. Despite every reason he had told her not to.  _

_ Maybe she knew the truth. That even if he had feelings for someone, there was no way his bloodstained hands could ever hope to hold them. _

~*~

It had taken Lance years to realize what it was. Years to realize that having borderline miserable as a baseline just wasn’t...normal. That the emptiness inside him was a problem. That the numbness and inadequacy he occasionally felt was not okay, and not to be ignored. And that wondering who would say what if you died on a weekly basis was just downright morbid. 

Depression presented itself in all forms, but Lance still didn’t think of himself as depressed. Because he was functional. He went to school, got straight A’s. Usually held a 20% tip average at work. He ate well. Maybe he didn’t work out as much as he should but running around at the restaurant definitely counted as something. 

But it didn’t stop the occasional waves of complete numbness. The days where he couldn’t bring himself to do anything and he’d look up and suddenly it was four pm and a whole day was gone. When he’d avoid making plans because he knew there was no way he’d manage. Or when he’d do the opposite, forcing himself to make plans to shake himself out of it. Sometimes it worked. Other times it didn’t. 

It wasn’t like the downswings would hit him out of nowhere, but they still surprised him every time. The feelings and thoughts were always in the back of his mind, and sometimes they would quietly grow without his noticing. And then out of the blue he’d be crushed under the weight of...nothing. 

Sometimes it lasted a few days. Sometimes a full week. In public he’d force himself to interact and smile and laugh, though he often saw Hunk giving him looks that meant he could see right through the facade. At home though, he would just curl up and stare at the TV. not sleeping, not eating. Just...there.

As he gets older, it gets worse. Now there’s anxiety attached to it. Why the hell did he decide to study biology? All the money was in labs, and he doesn’t want to be in a lab. He wants to do field work, which there’s next to no funding for anymore. And though he still flirts with everyone constantly, he’s actively not dating. How could he possibly ask someone to deal with this? He doesn’t want to deal with it - that’s probably why he end up on his couch staring at a wall three days out of the month. 

It’s not the kind of thing where he’s going to hurt himself, but he really wouldn’t mind if a bus hit him tomorrow either.

Lance woke up a few mornings after Girls Night without the motivation to shower or get to class. He could hear Keith shuffling around in the next room, and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want Keith to see this. 

He rolled over and thought over his schedule for the day. Classes. Classes he could skip. Pidge skipped most of her classes and had the best GPA in the entire school. Lance wasn’t quite as smart as her but he could afford to miss a day. Usually he had work after, but he had taken off for a senior class event at night. He had been the one who insisted that Hunk and Pidge had to crawl out of their lab and go. Senior year! Now the thought of it just made him nauseous. He knew he’d be fine, he knew most of the people who would be there, but it was just...he didn’t want to. 

Maybe if he rested now, he’d feel up to going to the event later. 

He finally heard Keith leave and waited an extra twenty minutes or so before shuffling out of his room. He poured himself a mug of coffee before collapsing onto the couch. 

Lance turned on the TV and let the first thing on his Netflix list play, then settled in to try to convince himself this was just a run of the mill self-care day. On the coffee table, his phone vibrated. 

**Keith: Where are you? Class is starting.**

Lance blinked at the phone. Damn it. Today was Queer Lit. With Keith. 

**Lance: Not feeling well.**

Keith didn’t respond, and Lance lost track of time. Red approached and curled up in his stomach. At some point, he fell asleep.

_ He dreamed he was floating in space, holding tightly to his friends in a small circle. Across from him, Keith is in a red and white space suit. He looks up and locks eyes with Lance.  _

_ “We need to stick together.” Keith was saying.  _

_ Lance wonders why he had never appreciated how pretty Keith’s eyes were before. Dark purple, holding so many secrets.  _

_ Lance wishes he could be strong like Keith. Hold it together. But it was too many battles and too many close calls and maybe just all together too much. And Lance is tired. God, is he tired. Not just of the war, but other things. Being ignored, being laughed at.  _

_ The dumb paladin.  _

_ He knows Keith trusts him, but he also knows it’s misplaced.  _

_ Next to him, Hunk says something and Lance sighs at the worried pitch in his voice.  _

_ “Don’t worry. I’m sure something else will be along to kill us any minute now.” _

“Lance!”

Lance’s eyes snapped open. Keith, university art student Keith, is standing over him with a face full of concern. It’s a strange moment for Lance. Part of him is grateful for the familiar face, but there’s some foreign part of him that’s balking. This wasn’t his Keith, it was saying. Where is the scar? The purple eyes? 

“Are you alright?” Keith is asking as Lance slowly sits up. “You were moaning.” 

“Yeah.” Lance says automatically. “Just a weird dream.” He spots a plastic bag holding a plastic quart container on the coffee table. “What’s that?” 

Keith glances at it. “Well, I got you soup because you said you were sick. But you don’t seem sick.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. Here is comes. The judgement. The true vision, Keith seeing Lance for how weak he really is. Lance doesn’t know why he doesn’t want to admit this to Keith. He had a hard enough time admitting it to Hunk. 

But he shouldn’t care what Keith thinks, right? They were just roommates. 

And coworkers.

And on the same tournament-winning paintball team. 

“Yeah, well. Not physically sick.” Lance shrugged, deciding to be brave. 

Keith frowned. “So…a mental health day?” 

“Yeah. I guess you can call it that.” 

Keith turned away from Lance, and Lance closed his eyes. He knew it. 

Red had moved up to perch on the back of the couch at some point earlier, but now he moved back down to curl into Lance’s chest. Lance looked at the TV again, staring at the  _ Are you still watching?  _ message but he doesn’t move to change it.

Keith comes back into the living room and completely shocks Lance by picking up Lance’s legs and sitting on the couch, then letting him fall across his lap again. 

“What are you doing?” Lance asks dumbly. 

“Sitting with you. Eat your soup.” Keith grabs the remote off the coffee table. “Jesus, why are you watching this?” 

“Keith, you don’t have to - “

“Lance, I know depression when I see it, okay?” Keith snapped. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.” 

Keith seemed angry, but Lance felt a lump in his throat when he realized it was just so...one hundred percent him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me. You’re my friend.” 

Keith wasn’t looking at him. He was navigating through Lance’s Netflix account, scrolling for something unknown. Lance felt like an idiot asking, ‘We’re friends again?’ Of course they were friends again. After Lance chewed him out at the farmer’s market and Keith didn’t immediately start packing his bags because he realized his roommate was crazy. 

Instead he asked, “How did you - “

“Shiro used to...have a hard time. After he lost his arm. Adam was always a lot better at pulling him out of it.” He hesitated. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Lance sat up slightly. “Tell me about him.”

“Who? Shiro?”

“No, idiot, I know Shiro. Tell me about Adam. Shiro never talks about him.” 

Keith finally settled on a show. “I don’t know, Lance. I didn’t really get along with him until they were engaged. The guy was...well, I always thought he was kind of a jackass.”

Lance snorted. “Always a good thing to speak ill of the dead.”

Keith shook his head. “Seriously. One time he went out and bought a bunch of golf shirts and wore them for a week because he found out Shiro had dated some older guy with a house in the Hamptons when he was like nineteen. Just to piss Shiro off.”

“Salty.” 

“Maybe. Really they just liked to push each other’s buttons.” Keith shrugged. “But he loved Shiro. So he wasn’t that bad.”

They didn’t talk again after that. 

Lance took a few bites of the soup Keith had bought, just chicken noodle from the buffet at a grocery store, but he wasn’t hungry and let it go cold on the table. They watched hours worth of TV without paying any real attention to it. At some point, Keith fell asleep, sprawled across his end of the couch with his head tossed back and his mouth open. 

This wasn’t...bad. Usually when the waves hit Lance just wanted to get the hell away from everyone. Hunk used to try to help, trying to force feed him sweets and get him to talk. Which was nice, but Lance really just wanted to be left alone. Besides, after he moved in with Pidge he just didn’t seem to really have time anymore…

Keith didn’t bother him though. He asked once if he wanted to talk, and left it alone when he said no. And maybe he could tell him about it, because Keith was usually a pretty good listener. As long as you weren’t telling him not to do something. He used to tell Keith things all the time. 

The sun was setting when Lance’s phone rang and lit up with a close-up of Hunk’s face. Keith groaned but stayed asleep. 

“Hello?” Lance answered quietly. 

“Hey, buddy. Where are you? I haven’t seen you all day.” 

“I’m at home.” Lance rubbed his face. “Sorry. I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you...do you want me to come over?” 

“No. I’m fine. Keith’s here.” 

“Really? Uh...how’s that going?” 

“Fine. He’s...he brought me soup.” 

Hunk made a noise indicating that he found the notion adorable, and Lance scrunched up his nose. Okay, it was totally adorable. But he didn’t need to think about that. 

“Are you going to make it to the event tonight?”

Lance paused. He said he would go…

“Yeah. I’ll be there. I’ll meet you in an hour.” 

He hung up and reached over and shook Keith awake. “Dude, get up.” 

“Huh - what - “

“I said I’d go to this stupid senior event. Wanna come?” 

Keith sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Senior event?”

“Yeah. There’s free food and beer. It’ll be miserable but we don’t have to cook.” Lance stood. “I’ve gotta shower.” 

“Lance...are you...feeling better?” 

Lance shrugged. 

“Do you want to go to this thing?” 

Lance thought about it. No. He didn’t. He wanted to just sit quietly with Keith for another few hours and maybe pretend there wasn’t homework or jobs or friends or their futures to worry about. And maybe he’d open up and tell Keith about the big empty hole inside him that wasn’t there for any particular reason other than it was. 

“I said I’d go.” Lance finally said. “I’ll be fine.” 

Lance went to take his shower, and knew he was right. He would be fine, because he was always fine. Just like he was fine with Hunk and Pidge slipping away from him. Just like he was fine with Keith leaving. Just like he was fine with every rejection, belittlement, insult. He was fine. 

And no one had to know the difference. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is so hard for me to write, guys. I'm sorry. Keith's easier for me in general so I'm still kind of feeling out Lance. Still though, I really think Lance would be soooo into wine. It would start so he could feel fancy, but then he'd end up finding all the knowledge and tradition super interesting.
> 
> I'm sorry the chapters are shorter and it doesn't make a ton of sense now but I promise it will.
> 
> Also, the toorhpaste thing is true.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Voltron kills it on the paintball field, and Lance does something nice.

Lance gets the hole inside him back to a reasonable size by the time Monday rolls around, which is good because he and his friends are going paintballing. Everyone blatantly lied to Shiro about not having classes so they could go.

 

They used to take multiple cars, which usually resulted in everyone waiting at the paintball field an extra half an hour for Shiro and Keith, because Keith was impossible to get out of bed.  But this time Pidge managed to borrow the old Suburban her father used to move his lab equipment around, so if they got there late they would be late together. 

 

Shiro’s jaw dropped when the Suburban pulls up outside of Lance’s apartment at eight in the morning and he and Keith are already outside with a small bag of gear. 

 

“How did you do that?” Shiro demanded as Lance dragged Keith’s half asleep form and his huge travel mug of coffee into the car. 

 

Lance shrugged. “He’s pretty pliable this early. I can usually just push him around.” 

 

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “That’s not my experience at all.”

 

Hunk is driving with Shiro in shotgun. Pidge is curled up against the window in the third row playing on an old Nintendo DS.. Coran is wide awake next to her, with Allura half asleep on him. They must have gotten in the back to avoid Lance and Keith stepping over them.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Lance asked, looking back at the ginger and silver-haired woman. 

 

“Some of our clientele bought her a few too many shots last night.” Coran chuckled. “Don’t worry, m’boy, she’ll be up in no time.” 

 

It’s a hour and a half drive to the paintball field, and Lance gives everyone a twenty minute reprieve. Keith sits next to him with his zombie-not-awake look, occasionally drinking his disgustingly black coffee. Lance sipped his own milky sugar coffee and flipped through several apps on his phone before losing interest and asking Hunk for the aux cord. 

 

“No Kesha.” Hunk reminded, finding the cord and passing it back between the seats. 

 

“Only savages play Kesha before ten PM.” 

 

“Only savages play Kesha period.” Keith grumbled. 

 

“Hey, he’s alive.” Pidge said in a flat tone, not looking up from her game. 

 

“Come on Keith.” Lance said cheerfully, selecting Beyonce’s Irreplaceable to warm everyone up while he queued up a playlist. “Everyone likes raunchy stuff every now and then. After ten PM.” 

 

Shiro glanced back at them. “Oh, Keith does raunchy. Just not Kesha.” 

 

Keith seemed fully awake now. There was a red tinge to his cheeks as he met his adopted brother’s eyes. 

 

“Shiro, don’t.” 

 

“There was a good six months of...what was that guy...he played it non-stop. Mickey Avalon.” 

 

“Oh. My. God.” Pidge whispered, her game all but forgotten. 

 

“Shiro, I swear - “

 

“Who is Mickey Avalon?” Coran asked, leaning forward. 

 

“He did classics like ‘My Dick’ and ‘Jane Fonda’.” Lance grinned. 

 

“And there was this one time,” Shiro continued, “you were what, Keith, seventeen?” 

 

“Shiro, shut up!” 

 

“He came home from some party, plastered - “

 

“I swear to God - “

 

“ - got up on a table and started dancing and singing ‘The Bad Touch’ by The Bloodhound Gang.”

 

Everyone in the car was shaking with laughter, save Keith who looked mutinous. 

 

“Oh, holy quiznack.” Lance gasped. “Is it my birthday again? Combined with Christmas?” 

 

“I’m pretty sure I have a video somewhere…” Shiro continued.

 

“It must be Halloween too!” Lance crowed. 

 

“Shiro, I will show them your middle school dance photos.” Keith threatened. “Remember the braces? And the ruffles?”

 

“But I think Adam had it.” Shiro finished smoothly. “Funny how life works out.” 

 

“Oh, come on, Keith.” Hunk laughed as Keith continued to scowl. “Just think of how many times Lance has made an ass of himself when sober.” 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Thanks, buddy.”

 

“That...actually makes me feel better.” Keith smirked.

 

Lance scowled at his roommate went back to curating his playlist. Many people were under the misconception that Lance only listened to pop music. He liked pop music, because pop music was made to be liked. The truth was that he listened to literally everything. And because of that, he made fantastic playlists. His road trip playlists would have a song geared towards each person in the car, then rotate around. 

 

So he chose Zoe Keating for Allura, because she loved classical music and had played cello all through college. Drinking in LA by Bran Van 3000 for Hunk because it was chill and relaxed and general good vibes. And then - 

 

_ My breakfast is straight out the medicine cabinet, _

_ A remedy for the aftermath of my habits. _

_ Sometimes it’s the ones we try to help, that hurt the most. _

 

“What is this?” Allura asked. 

 

“Keith’s theme song.” Lance shrugged, still scrolling through his extensive Spotify library. 

 

Hunk tilted his head, listening to the odd collection of instruments. “Oh, it’s that hillbilly punk band you were obsessed with freshman year.” 

 

“Hillbilly?” Keith’s head snapped around to glare at his roommate. “You trying to say something, McClain?” 

 

“Calm down, Mullet. I know you’re from Texas, not Western Virginia. Yee-haw, and all that.” 

 

“Lance listens to punk?” Shiro repeated. 

 

“I listen to everything.” Lance said. “I am cultured. Eclectic.” 

 

_ I want to hide away in the back of a cave _

_ In the top of a mountain,  _

_ where no one can hear me and no one can see me _

_ So i don’t have to deal with them  _

_ and they don’t have to deal with me _

_ Cause relationships are overrated _

_ Maybe i’m just tired and jaded _

_ Well i’m sorry i just like myself more than i like you _

 

_ So call me anti-social, call it masturbation _

_ Either way it’s a solo operation. _

_ I’m just far more comfortable alone. _

 

Pidge snorted when the word ‘masturbation’ came up. “Yeah, this sounds cultured alright.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Gee, Lance. Tell me how you really feel.” 

 

Lance shrugged. “Just calling a spade a spade.” 

 

“Oh, yeah, he had a whole like ‘dark music’ phase.” Hunk was telling Shiro. “Not emo, because that was a specific subset. Hey, Lance, remember when you listened to Placebo for three weeks straight because of that guy you liked?” 

 

Lance scowled. “Hunk, shut it.” 

 

“Who was it?” Allura asked, leaning forward. 

 

“I can’t remember.” Lance lied. 

 

“You listen to Placebo?” Keith asked incredulously. “They were my first concert.” 

 

Lance rolled his eyes, but carefully kept his gaze away from his roommate. “I know. You only talk about it like, all the time.”

 

“Since when do you like them?” 

 

Pidge had a huge shit-eating grin on her face. “Probably since he - “

 

“You know what, you all have earned yourselves non-stop Britney for the rest of the drive.” Lance snapped, typing away in the search bar. “I hope you’re happy.” 

 

“No!” Keith reached over to try to grab the phone, but Lance held it out of his reach. “Come on, I didn’t even say anything!”

 

“You doubted my taste in music, which is much better than yours.” 

 

“We just agreed on a band!” 

 

“Yeah, and it’s just about the only good thing you like.”

 

“Well, Hunk, if he’s going to punish us anyway, tell us who it was!” Allura called over their squabbling. 

 

“He never gave me a name.” Hunk replied truthfully. 

 

Thank God for past-Lance’s self-preservation instincts. 

 

Lance turned up the volume on the phone so no one could talk over the blasting of ‘Toxic’. He stayed true to his word and played only Britney Spears for the remaining forty-five minutes of the drive. Everyone was in a pretty bad mood by the time they parked at the paintball field and rolled out of the car. 

 

Their chosen arena was out in the middle of nowhere. There were five different themed maps, set in a wooded area that sometimes smelled like swamp. The whole business was run out of a cabin that seemed to be on its last legs. 

 

Everyone seemed to forget their irritation as they filed into the cabin and were greeted warmly by the guys who owned the place. While Shiro handed over the cash they had pulled together to pay for the day and extra paintballs, Lance found his gaze drawn to their team photo behind the register. 

 

**_Mud Wars Champions 20XX - Team Voltron_ **

 

Shiro had a copy of this photo in the manager’s office at the restaurant too. They’re all sitting on the back steps of the cabin, completely covered in mud and paint. The tournament had taken place in November, and they had to sleep at the campgrounds nearby overnight. It had been so cold, even with the seven of them crammed into the two-room tent Shiro had brought. But it doesn’t show on their faces as they all grin for the camera, Allura holding a trophy in the air. Lance with an arm slung around Keith’s shoulders. 

 

Seemed almost like a different lifetime. 

 

Lance went back outside and started to get ready. He was wearing what he always wore for paintball - blue jeans, army green hoodie. White and blue baseball shirt. Everyone always thought he was crazy - he was too visible! But he always tucked the white hood into the shirt and zipped up the front. And rarely got shot. 

 

Lance sat on top of a picnic table and opened the gear bag he and Keith had packed. He had checked their paintball guns the night before, but he checked them again methodically. His friends slowly joined him and he watched curiously as another group, this one all in matching purple camo jumpsuits, entered the cabin. 

 

“So, should we do teams?” Allura asked, tying a black bandana around her head to hide her silver hair. Pointedly ignoring the other team, which clearly thought they were something. 

 

“We have an odd number.” Hunk pointed out. “Where’s Matt?” 

 

“Said he had to work.” Pidge shrugged. 

 

“I don’t mind being referee.” Coran offered. “Shiro and Keith can be team captains.” 

 

“I want Lance.” Keith said immediately. 

 

Lance is honestly surprised, even if no one else is. He knew that he and Keith always worked well together - hell, in the championship round last November they were the ones who captured the castle that won them the entire thing. But it’s always a little odd to hear him acknowledge it. Maybe because no one else ever does.

 

But Pidge rolled her eyes. “You always pick Lance.” 

 

Lance found some fake confidence and pulled it out of his ass. “Yeah, cause he’s a good leader and knows how to build a good team. Right, Keith?” 

 

“I just don’t want to listen to you bitch about being picked last.” 

 

That hurt. But Keith is giving him a funny smile, so maybe he’s teasing. 

 

“They always win.” Pidge grumbled. “Like, why would we even try?”

 

“Pidge, you know what happens when they don’t work together.” Shiro sighed. “Last time they spent the entire time going after only each other and forgetting about the rest of the game.”

 

One of the owners came outside and called, “Hey, Shiro. These guys inside recognized you and want to play against you. You in?” 

 

Team Voltron looked around at each other. Surprised to be recognised, even with their photo hanging in the store. Treated like pros. They all had their own guns, but it wasn’t like they were nice or anything. No padding other than their clothes, nothing. 

 

Shiro rose an eyebrow, and Pidge looked determined. Keith nodded, Lance grinned. Coran pursed his lips, Allura cracked her neck, and Hunk started loading ammo into his gun. 

 

“Sure.” Shiro said. “Which map?”

 

“They want to play the Castle.” 

 

Lance loved the Castle. 

 

“Start time in a half hour. You’re champions so you pick if you want defense or offense.”

 

“Offense.” was the automatic reply. 

 

They moved efficiently after that, finishing loading up and pulling on their thick hoodies. They started up the gravel road towards the Castle map, the other team already there. Coran and Shiro discussed strategy as they led everyone past an urban map and a more open area on a hill with two hunting towers. 

 

The Castle was a huge plywood structure, two floors surrounded by high walls with windows. There were two side entrances to the ground level plus a large main gate, and two ladders up to the second floor. 

 

But playing offense, they walked around the structure and back into the woods, hiding themselves among the trees while they waited for the start whistle. Lance pulled his mask on over his face and looked over the field. For a moment, Lance almost saw different versions of his friends. All wearing white armour with different colored accents. He held a red and white sniper rifle in his hands. 

 

Keith glanced over at Lance, a tree branch casting a shadow across his pale skin. Like a curved scar. His hands, covered in his fingerless bike gloves, seemed to at once hold a sword and a paintball gun. It was dizzying. 

 

“You’ve got our backs, right?” he asked, pulling his own mask down over his face. 

 

“I always do.” Lance muttered, raising his gun and trying to spot the purple camo in the Castle. 

 

The whistle sounded, and the game started. 

 

It wasn’t until the end of their day, covered in mud and paint and exhausted from the games, that Lance let himself wonder at the unquestioning trust Keith always showed in him. The fierce grin he was rewarded with on a different map, when he took out one of the purple-clad players over Keith’s shoulder. 

 

Even now, tucked into the third row of the Suburban. They had gotten McDonalds from a drive-thru and stuffed their faces in the parking lot, and pretty much everyone had passed out as soon as they were on the highway. Only Hunk, driving again, and Lance were still up. 

 

Pidge had fallen asleep leaning on her window with her legs stretched across Keith and Lance’s laps, and Keith had tipped right over onto Lance’s shoulder. Lance tried to get comfortable under the weight, leaning against the hard plastic wall of the car. Tried not to think of soft and relaxed Keith’s face was as he slept. 

 

He. Is. Your. Roommate.

 

“You alright, buddy?” 

 

Lance looked up, past Allura and Shiro sleeping in the second row, to where Hunk met his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

 

“We haven’t had a chance to talk since the other day. With your...you know.” 

 

Lance sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just another day, you know?” 

 

“You seem tired lately.” 

 

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately.” Lance admitted. “Nothing to worry about.” 

 

Hunk’s eyes were focused back on the road. “Well, it there’s anything you want to talk about…”

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

 

“That includes Keith, you know.” 

 

Lance’s throat went dry. “Yeah, I know.” 

 

~*~

 

_ Another day. Another day and Lance is still asleep. Everyone’s starting to get snippy with each other. No one wants to leave the hallway outside his room. No one has any ideas on how to wake him up.  _

 

_ Veronica finds them still there at ten o’clock, and maybe it’s the stress or the exhaustion but when Shiro asks if there’s any updates she just loses it.  _

 

_ “Oh, so now that Lance is hurt, you care?” she snarls.  _

 

_ Shiro looks taken aback. “Of course we care about him. We’re a team - “ _

 

_ “A team?” Veronica repeats. “A team? Lance worshiped you from the day he found your interview in Space Traveler Magazine and you repeatedly dismiss him and choose everyone over him.”  _

 

_ “I - “ _

 

_ But she’s already rounding on Allura. “And you. You’re the worst of them all. My brother literally died for you. And you don’t even have the nerve to tell him you can’t return his feelings.” _

 

_ Keith is waiting for Veronica to turn on him. To scream at him for noticing the emptiness in Lance’s smile and doing nothing. For repeatedly putting the mission above her brother.  _

 

_ But Hunk whispers in a small voice, “Lance died?” _

 

_ Veronica shakes her head at all of them. “You call this a team. He called it a family. From where I’m standing, it’s a clusterfuck.”  _

 

_ On that note, she storms away, moving a hand over her face. Keith can see moisture clinging to the tips of her fingers.  _

 

_ The team, family, clusterfuck...they just stand in silence with guilt filling the spaces between them.  _

 

~*~

 

Lance keeps his schedule so packed so he can distract himself when thing get...difficult. Maybe that’s why his breakdown the other week was bothering him so much. Especially since Keith found him. Helped him. 

 

Dios, Keith bought him soup. He wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed or smitten. Definitely not smitten. He locked it away next to the sunflowers  that looked so nice on the coffee table and the small smiles Keith sometimes gave him when he thought Lance wasn’t looking. 

 

Lance had enough problems without acknowledging what he actually thought about his roommate. 

 

Keith didn’t bring it up at all, but Lance could feel him watching him. It didn’t feel like pity, the way Hunk sometimes looked at him. It felt like concern. 

 

Lance knows he’s looking for signs of another bad day, maybe, but Lance can push it away for now. Keith doesn’t know the great lengths Lance goes through to avoid his problems. Using homework and the never ending cycle of work as distractions. And Lance doesn’t want to admit how much better he felt after wasting his day away on the couch with Keith. 

 

He felt well enough to go to that stupid event, which ended up being pretty lame but at least he and his friends basked in the lameness together. They stood around and chatted while some kid Lance had never seen before who said he was their class president made a speech. Pidge swiped an entire pizza off the table of food and the four of them ate it in the corner. 

 

Having Keith back balanced them again. At least now when Hunk and Pidge went off on one of their technical tangents there was someone else to sit there with a clueless look on their face. 

 

Lance wanted to thank him somehow, but it was hard when neither of them wanted to acknowledge it. 

 

On a Thursday afternoon Lance came home and dumped his backpack on the floor before falling onto the couch. He had a forest ecology exam to study for, which he really didn’t want to do. He didn’t know why he was taking that class.

 

He was laying on something full of hard edges and at the same time soft. Lance sat up and frowned at Keith’s gym bag. He must have forgotten it. Keith usually worked out sometime between his classes and work. 

 

Here was...an idea. He could run the bag over to Keith, save his day, and avoid studying for his exam. He was pretty sure Keith had his senior studio time right about now - three hours of uninterrupted time to work on his art for a showing at the end of the semester. Bringing the bag to him was the equivalent of soup, right? 

 

Right?

 

Lance made up his mind and grabbed the bag, leaving the apartment again. It had finally started to actually get chilly, fall settling in and dropping leaves. Girls running around looking adorable in oversized sweaters and boots. Boys looking equally adorable in thin dark jackets and scarves. Pumpkin spice everything. 

 

Lance decided to walk back to the university, leaving his truck parked next to the apartment. He took off at a brisk pace, loving the scents of the leaves and the brisk air. He considered stopping for coffee, not that he needed it but it would just feel nice, but he had to hurry. He wasn’t sure how long Keith would be in his studio. 

 

It wasn’t until Lance was actually standing in the art building that he realized he had no idea where he was going. He had taken an art history course once, but it had been held in a large lecture hall in a different building. In fact, Lance wasn’t even sure if he’d been in the art building before. 

 

He walked into the main entrance hall and frowned at the signs pointing towards different galleries and performance spaces. Nothing about classrooms or studios. He was reasonably sure that art students took their classes here, but he had no idea how to get to them. 

 

“Can I help you?” 

 

Lance looked up to see a petite girl with blue hair and a nose ring giving him a bemused look. 

 

“You look lost.”

 

“Uhm...I’m looking for my friend? Keith?” 

 

The girl gave him a blank look. 

 

“Dark hair. Scowls a lot.” Lance scrunched up his nose. “Mullet.”

 

“Pretty eyes?” she guessed.

 

“That’s the one!” 

 

“They gave him Studio G. Downstairs and to the left.” 

 

“Downstairs?” 

 

“You’re really lost, aren’t you?”

 

“I’m a biology major.” 

 

“Didn’t peg him as someone who would like the science types.” She pointed him up the hallway. 

 

Lance went in the indicated direction and found a blue-grey set of stairs, then headed down to the basement. He peered in a few windowed doors before finding the one labeled G and pushing it open. 

 

Keith was sitting at a huge work table with a huge ball of silver wire in front of him, using cutters to clip it into even lengths. He had his headphones in, but heard Lance enter anyway. He looked up with a frown and took one of the buds out. 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Do you need something?” 

 

Lance lifted the strap of the bag off his shoulder. “You left your gym bag.”

 

“Oh. Thanks.”

 

Lance shuffled further inside, Keith watched him blankly. Maybe this wasn’t a great idea, but it was too late. This was also a great time for Lance to realize he had never seen any of Keith’s work, and had probably never asked about it. 

 

“What are you working on?” 

 

Keith gestured towards the windows, where four plastic torsos sat in the sunlight. One was sprayed black and draped in tiny LED lights. Another one was just the shoulders supported by rusted out pipes, the rest of the body cut away. A pile of rebar sat at the end of the line up. 

 

Lance didn’t know why he hadn’t known that Keith made sculptures, but it made sense. He was good with his hands, had rebuilt Shiro’s motorcycle in high school. And he knew that Keith had to be really good, because only the best students in the program were assigned these rooms. 

 

“Ah, a masterpiece.” Lance nodded. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “It’s not done yet, jackass.” 

 

“Well, what is it?” 

 

“Dualities.” 

 

“So descriptive.” 

 

Keith sighed. “It’s just something...I’ve been thinking about. A lot lately. Dualities of love. Figured if I could make something of it, I’d do it for my senior showing.” 

 

“Hmm. What’s all the rebar for?” 

 

“A cage.” His face got a little softer. “It’s going to be the centerpiece.” 

 

“Huh.” 

 

Lance looked around the room. There were a few other piles of scrap metal, a box of dried leaves, a few bottles of paint. A few extra torsos on the shelf. Buckets of modeling supplies, clay. Keith had gone back to cutting wires and Lance sat on a stool on the other side of the work table. 

 

“I always...kind of thought you painted.” Lance admitted. “Seeing as you come home reeking of paint thinner.” 

 

“I do. I like this better though.” Keith looked up at him. “Why are you suddenly asking?” 

 

Lance shrugged. “Would you have told me before?” 

 

“Before?”

 

“Before you went soul-searching in California.” 

 

Keith looked surprised. 

 

“You’re like...balanced. Or something. Not better. Better’s a bad word.” 

 

Did Keith practice his piercing gaze in the mirror? Or did it come naturally to him after a lifetime of being quiet and watching? Either way, Lance felt like he was being examined under a microscope. Which, he supposed, was better than - 

 

_ “I don’t have time for this, Lance!” Keith growled, pushing right past him.  _

 

When did that happen? 

 

“No.” Keith finally decided. “I probably wouldn’t have told you.” 

 

Lance bit his lip, then stood. “Well, I should let you work.” 

 

“You can stay, if you want.” Keith said immediately, if not awkwardly. 

 

“Nah, man, you’ve got your statement to make. Something that will make all the jackass critics stand around and say profound bullshit.” Lance was backing towards the door. “I’ve gotta study anyway. So I can support Future Mrs McClain.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes at Lance’s finger guns and kept his eyes on the ceiling as Lance let the door drop shut behind him. 

 

_ “Hey, everybody, Keith’s back!”  _

 

His own voice rings in his ears, and he feels the sting of rejection for what’s probably the millions time, and somehow it’s so much worse because it’s  _ Keith _ and he’s so mission driven he can’t even see what’s right in front of him. 

 

_ Because no matter how well he controls Red, no matter how many bayard forms he unlocks and how hard he fights and how much he pretends it’s all okay, Lance will never be -  _

 

Lance walks up the hallway and rubs his forehead, then walks quickly across campus to the huge stone monster that houses the sciences. This place, he can navigate quickly and by himself. He’s most familiar with the basement, where Biology is located, and to some extent the Chemistry department on the first floor. But he goes all the way up to the top, the fourth floor, where the Engineering and Robotics labs are. 

 

He finds his best friends in their usual Robotics lab, smiling and munching on Doritos. He knocks on the glass door, and they both look up at him. Unlike the art studios, these need an ID card to open them. Pidge smiles and gets out of her chair, rushing to open the door. 

 

“Lance! Hey! Come see our new project!” 

 

Before he can say anything, he’s being pulled inside by the tiny girl. 

 

“Hey, buddy. What’re you doing here?” Hunk asked. 

 

“Procrastinating.”

 

Pidge dragged Lance to their workbench, motioning to five small robot lions. Each a different color. The blue one is hooked up to Pidge’s laptop, the black one with ‘Rover’ spelled out in green tape on the back of the screen. 

 

“Aren’t they cool?” she beamed. “We’re going to hook them up to lasers!” 

 

“What?” Lance grinned. “Do they join together to form one giant robocop?” 

 

Hunk looked slightly confused. “No, but...that would be cool…”

 

Lance’s smile faded slightly, and Pidge looked concerned. 

 

“Lance...is everything okay?” Pidge asked quietly. “You seem...a little off.” 

 

“Guys...I think I’m going crazy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Days N Daze is a wonderful "H-town Thrashgrass" band from Texas. Definitely listen to 'Misanthropic Drunken Loner' (lyrics above). 
> 
> I know the story is a little confusing still, but it'll be clear in the next chapter or so.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, grocery shopping is code for date.

Lance is pacing the robotics lab, trying to find the right words. 

 

“Is it Keith?” Pidge asked.

 

Lance scowled at her. “What? No. Why would it be Keith?” 

 

Pidge rose an eyebrow. “Seriously?” 

 

“Pidge, let him think.” Hunk placated. “Take your time, buddy.” 

 

Lance paced a few more times before turning to them. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

 

“Alright, we’re listening.” Pidge said, not looking up from her laptop. 

 

“Right. So. I’ve been having these weird flashes of...someone else’s memories? Except they’re...mine? But they’re not?” Lance rubbed his face. “It’s like...there’s this other me that flies a giant warship and fights this intergalactic war, and he’s kind of taken up residence in my head.” 

 

Pidge had stopped working to examine him with her pale gold eyes. 

 

“And he’s friends with all of you, but they’re different too. And I keep having these dreams...like PTSD from a war I’ve never fought.” 

 

“Do you have any history of mental illness in your family?” Pidge asked, sounding mostly clinical but a soft edge of concern to her voice. “Schizophrenia? Bipolar disorder?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“And your thing...the mood swings…?”

 

“It’s not like that.” Lance shook his head. “That’s...this is new. And it’s totally different. Ugh, mierda, I’m not explaining it right.” 

 

“Imagination running wild?” Hunk suggested. “You used to write stories all the time freshman year.” 

 

“No, it’s like...okay. Ask me how Shiro lost his arm.” 

 

“Lance, we all know how Shiro lost his arm.” 

 

“Ask me anyway.” 

 

“Alright. How did Shiro lose his arm?” 

 

“The Galra cut it off when he was in their prison, forced to fight in the arena.” Lance responded automatically, then slapped a hand over his mouth. 

 

Pidge’s jaw dropped. Hunk looked confused. “Lance, he lost his arm in - “

 

“Afghanistan. I know.” Lance dropped onto a stool. “It’s like...I look at you guys, and I see my best friends. I see my super nerdy friends that I love and we’re gonna walk across a stage together in a few months.” 

 

“Awww, buddy!”

 

“But I also see these...other versions of you that are the same but...harder? They’re warriors, like the other version of me. I don’t know. It’s confusing and weird.” 

 

“Are we still best friends?” 

 

Lance wants to say yes, and he knows it’s true, but there’s a weird flash of pain in his stomach. Some sort of issue that’s not being addressed. 

 

“Yeah, of course.” Lance smiled. 

 

“The other version of you and Keith act like an old married couple too?” Pidge asked. 

 

A different kind of discomfort bubbled in Lance’s stomach. “Why are you so obsessed with me and Keith?” 

 

She shrugged. “Either way, it’s interesting. Your...false memories?”

 

“They’re not false.” Lance scowled. “They’re real. I know they’re real.” 

 

He knows it. He can feel it. He knows it’s all real because of the dreams filled with his friends screaming they’re going to die and this would be their last battle. He knows it’s real because of how the pieces of this other Lance’s life somehow seem to fit exactly with his own. And he knows they’re real because he sees these other versions under the skins of his friends - the diplomat in Hunk, the genius in Pidge, the leader in Shiro, the regality in Allura, the problem solver in Coran, the fierceness in Keith. 

 

“Okay, well, if they’re real,” Pidge concedes, “there has to be an explanation for it.” 

 

“That, or I’m crazy.” Lance nodded. 

 

“Yeah, or that.” 

 

Hunk still looks concerned. “Don’t worry, Lance. We’ll figure it out. Just like...try not to worry about it, alright? I mean, it’s kind of cool if you think about it. You have memories of being a space warrior!” 

 

“Paladin.” Lance corrected. “Blue Paladin.” 

 

“Whatever.” 

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Lance.” Pidge said softly. “We’ll figure it out. But for now...maybe just enjoy the ride.” 

 

~*~

 

_ “Lance died?” Hunk asked again. “How...when?”  _

 

_ Allura wasn’t looking at any of them. “I didn’t think he knew...he never said anything.”  _

 

_ “What happened?” Keith asked, barely containing his anger at the princess.  _

 

_ “He took a blast for me in Red. I...he was barely gone so I just...pushed his quintessence back in…” _

 

_ “And you didn’t think to talk to him about it?”  _

 

_ “Keith.” Shiro said sharply.  _

 

_ “Why didn’t he tell us?” Pidge whispered.  _

 

_ “He has been keeping to himself lately.” Coran said. “I hardly saw him outside of the training room or missions before Keith returned.”  _

 

_ Keith turned on Hunk. “Where were you in all of this?” _

 

_ “Well, we’ve had so much work…” _

 

_ “You were too busy for your best friend who literally died?” _

 

_ “I didn’t know! And besides, you’re one to talk!” _

 

_ “What’s that supposed to mean?”  _

 

_ “Well you and Lance were together like all the time and you suddenly left!” _

 

_ Keith wanted to scream. He had to leave. He had to leave for himself, to find his mother, to be something more, to give Lance a chance to be more… _

 

_ “Blaming each other is not the answer.” Shiro said evenly. “We just have to...wait until he wakes up and - “ _

 

_ “And what, Shiro?” Pidge asked. “Haggar’s puppet was pretty awful to Lance, but it wasn’t your fault.” _

 

_ “Isn’t it? We never addressed any of this and just assumed he would be fine. And obviously, he’s not.”  _

 

~*~

 

Lance takes Pidge’s advice and starts writing down the little bits and pieces of memories that push at his mind. The memories of Space Lance, as he’s come to think of it, don’t seem to want to hurt him. Most of the time. Sometimes when he looked at Keith shuffling around in the morning he’d feel a twist of betrayal and loss, or a flash of nerves. Not that the nerves didn’t happen before. 

 

Suddenly Reading Days, or Party Days depending on the student, are on them. Which means midterms are just a few days away. Shiro and Keith both took off of work to do some God awful survivalist version of camping. The kind where they actually hiked to their camp spot. Lance is happy to have the house to himself. 

 

Or so he thinks. 

 

He woke up late on Sunday morning, having had to work late the night before and staying out drinking even later after that. He wasn’t sure if he was hungover or if he’s just run of the mill tired, or empty. 

 

He could smell coffee. Someone was in the apartment. He was reasonably sure he didn't bring anyone home last night, and Hunk usually called before showing up. Pidge didn’t, but she would probably wake him up first thing.

 

Lance dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe, then shuffled out of his room. A woman with curly hair and wearing a brilliantly pink dress was cooing at Red, trying to get him to come out from under the kitchen table. Red was not impressed.

 

“Mom?” 

 

She turned around and smiled widely. “Mijo! You’re awake! Come, come, have some coffee.” 

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

“I can’t visit my favorite son?” 

 

“Marco’s your favorite son.” Lance reminded. “You tell us all the time. Por que no puendes ser como Marco?” 

 

Lance knows he’s being a brat, mocking her favorite question when he and Luis got into trouble, that his mother probably just wants to see him. But he didn’t want to do this right now.

 

“I love all my children equally.” she sniffed indignantly, putting a coffee in front of him. “I just wanted to come and see you. Make sure you’re alright.” 

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You haven’t called.” 

 

Lance sighed. 

 

His mother had insisted on everyone in the family having a key to his apartment, mostly so they could show up unannounced like this. Usually it was just Luis blowing through town with his band and needing a place to crash, but sometimes it was Veronica needing to escape from the monotony of her office job. And then his mother showing up with food.

 

Keith shuffled into the room with his eyes half closed, and Lance’s mother made a surprised noise. Lance was just as shocked as she was. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Lance demanded. 

 

Keith’s eyes snapped open, frantically looking between Lance and his mother. He blinked a few times, then headed for the coffee machine. 

 

“We had to cancel the camping trip.” he mumbled. “It started snowing on the pass we were going to hike.”

 

“It’s the middle of October! Did the weather machine break or something?” 

 

Keith didn’t respond. He poured himself a mug of coffee and let his face hang over it. 

 

“I’m Rubina. Lance’s mom.” 

 

They shook hands and Keith mumbled something. 

 

Lance rolled his eyes and said, “Mom, this is Keith. Ignore him. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t exist before noon.” 

 

“I was going to offer to take you grocery shopping. You need eggs.”

 

“Me and Keith usually go to the farmer’s market on Sundays.” Lance yawned. “But eggs are a problem. No breakfast.” 

 

“I’ll take you boys to brunch.” Rubina smiled. “Then groceries. My treat.” 

 

“I’ve never been for brunch.” Keith muttered absently. 

 

Lance gave his roommate a horrified look. “You’ve never been to brunch? What kind of gay are you?” 

 

Hurt flashes across Keith's face. “A horrible one, apparently.”

 

“Well, get ready for your mind to be blown, samurai. Get dressed.”

 

_ In his mind, he sees Keith smile slightly. “Whatever you say, sharpshooter.” _

 

“Samurai?”

 

“Yeah. It’s what I call you.”

 

“You’ve never called me that.”

 

“Just go shower.”

 

Keith left the room and Lance’s mother sighed. “That boy needs a haircut.”

 

Lance snorted. 

 

“At least I know why you don’t have time to call your mother. With your boyfriend moving in.” 

 

Lance choked and spat the coffee he had been sipping out across the table. 

 

“Lance!”

 

“What the - Mama! El no es mi novio!”

 

Rubina rose an eyebrow, and switched their language completely to Spanish incase Keith heard.

 

-Really?

 

-Seriously!

 

-Is this not the Keith with the bad hair you’ve complained about for four years?

 

-Yes, but -

 

-And you’re going to sit there and lie to your poor old mother about dating him?

 

-I’m not lying about anything!

 

-I don’t care if you date boys, darling. I just want you happy.

 

-Yes, Mama, I know, but I’m not dating Keith!

 

-Then why does he live here?

 

-He needed a place to live! I have a spare room!

 

-And living together requires grocery shopping together?

 

-Yes. All roommates grocery shop together.

 

Something in Rubina’s expression told Lance that no, not all roommates grocery shop together every weekend. Just like most college aged boys do not spend their mornings in fluffy white bathrobes. But she shook her head in disappointment and found a rag to clean up the coffee Lance had spit out. 

 

Lance got up and made himself feel better by banging on the bathroom door loudly to make Keith hurry up. 

 

~*~

 

Rubina, Lance decided, must be here specifically to torture him. Maybe she wasn’t convinced they weren’t dating, because as soon as they sat down for brunch she started interrogating Keith. She didn’t get much out of him until she started asking about his art. Maybe it was also because by the time she started on that, Keith had started on his second Bloody Maria. 

 

Lance scowled at his mother over the rim of his mimosa.

 

“What’s wrong, mijo?” she asked innocently. “Are you feeling sick?” 

 

“Something like that.” Lance grumbled. “Has terminado de molestarlo?”

 

“Celoso?” 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. 

 

“Solo quiero saber el novio de mi hijo.”

 

Lance felt his cheeks flame. “Mama!” 

 

Lance could feel Keith’s eyes on him, damn that penetrating gaze, and couldn’t bring himself to look back. Luckily he was saved by the arrival of their food.  

 

Whatever. Rubina was about to find out how far from perfect their friendship was, because Lance and Keith always argued when they were grocery shopping. They fought about if it was really worth it to get Mrs Meyer’s household cleaners as opposed to the cheaper brands. They fought over how much junk food they were allowed to buy, which shapes of pastas were worthy, if they should get frozen food. They had earned a serious reputation for themselves at the farmer’s markets for their fights over the fruits and vegetables they were purchasing for the week. 

 

This week was particularly bad, and not because of Rubina’s prying. Lance is tired, irritated, and still has to get some studying done today. And it’s not his fault that Keith is choosing to be stubborn about cereal. 

 

“Lance, there’s better things to eat for breakfast.” Keith groaned. 

 

“I’m not even getting one of the sugary ones!” 

 

“That doesn’t - you know cereal was invented to try to stop people from masturbating, right?” 

 

“What the - how do you even know that?” 

 

“I’ve spent half my life in gyms. We eat well.” 

 

“Next you’re going to tell me you’re one of those garbage anti-orange juice people.” 

 

“Well - “

 

“Oh, my God. You ruin everything.” 

 

“Just get some yogurt or something.” 

 

“Why? So when you get drunk you can eat it and poison yourself? Thanks, I don’t need Shiro coming after me for letting you kill yourself.” 

 

“That’s not how lactose intolerance works! You’re supposed to be a scientist!” 

 

Lance gritted his teeth and it took a lot to not stomp his foot like a toddler. “Fine.” he bit out. “I won’t get cereal. But you’re putting back the hummus.” 

 

“But - “

 

“I swear to God, Keith! It is an insult to my cooking and my house!” 

 

“How is it - fine!” 

 

Keith snatched the package out of the cart and stomped up the aisle. Lance glanced at his mother. 

 

“Still think we’re perfect?” 

 

She shrugged and pushed the cart after Keith. “He brings you to life.” 

 

“Madre de Dios.” 

 

~*~

 

_ Allura quickly made herself scarce after that. Shiro had left slowly, as if in a daze. Hunk and Pidge looked as hurt and confused as Keith felt as they headed for their respective beds. Coran went to find Lance’s doctor, again. Even though the doctors don’t understand why Lance isn’t up and smiling even though his brain scans say he should be.  _

 

_ Keith waited until Lance’s parents left for the night to slip into the room and drag a chair closer to the bedside. Lance’s features are just as sharp as ever - the hard lines of his cheekbones, his upturned nose and jaw - but he seems so much older than the loudmouthed teenager Keith usually thinks of him as. Even like this, asleep or comatose or whatever was going on. At the same time, he looks vulnerable.  _

 

_ There were plenty of adjectives Keith could use to describe the Blue Paladin, but vulnerable wasn’t one of them. He had only seen it once, when Lance came to talk to him about stepping down. The conversation had shocked Keith. Lance always seemed so sure of who he was, stumbling out of his room in the middle of the night still wearing his facial treatments and never once apologizing for any of the stupid crap that came out of his mouth. The idea that he thought he wasn’t a part of the team, or not worthy, didn’t sit right with Keith. Where had these notions even come from?  _

 

_ Had they abandoned him?  _

 

_ Lance had been spending so much time with his family lately. Keith didn’t really think much of it. He had been so homesick, it only made sense. He had noticed that Lance seemed withdrawn, but he just attributed it to the long trip back to Earth.  _

 

_ Hunk and Pidge spent a good amount of time together if they weren’t with their families...Shiro and Allura were constantly busy with leadership responsibilities...Keith just assumed Lance wanted to be with his family, not with him… _

 

_ Had it started before that? Lance had made it pretty clear that he thought Keith had abandoned all of them when they floated hopelessly in space. There had been so much raw pain in his voice at the time, and Keith meant to talk to him about it and tell him why he left, but… _

 

_ Earth happened. And then Hunk’s family. And then everything else. There just wasn’t time, and Lance didn’t bring it up again.  _

 

_ It was still pretty ballsy of Veronica to call Shiro and Allura out like that. Especially since Shiro was technically her CO now. Keith trusted Lance’s ideas and suggestions because he had seen again and again that they worked out, but Shiro’s death meant he had missed a lot of the growth period.   _

 

_ And Allura… _

 

_ Keith wasn’t going to touch that mess with a ten foot pole.  _

 

_ The door quietly opened and Hunk and Pidge slipped in, wearing their pajamas and looking surprised to see Keith still there. But instead of saying anything, Hunk pulls over the only other chair in the room and sits across the bed from Keith, staring sadly at his best friend. Pidge climbs up onto the bed and curls up like a cat next to Lance’s feet.  _

 

_ None of them say anything. The words just don’t seem to exist.  _

 

_ Hours later, Hunk straightened up. “Keith, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”  _

 

~*~

 

Rubina, thankfully, did not stay overnight. Having made sure her son was alive, bought him groceries and harassed him about what she viewed as the chemistry he had with his roommate, she drove back home to make dinner for her eldest son’s family. Thank God. 

 

Lance spread his textbooks, laptop and notebooks across the kitchen table to work on a lab report. He stayed up pretty late, not noticing the time or darkness, or Keith moving around him. He put on his headphones so he wouldn’t bother Keith, who’s doing his own work in his room off the kitchen. 

 

He just wants to get this done before he loses the motivation to actually work. And focusing on fly genetics keeps his mind off of his mother’s taunting, and the raven haired disaster of a person in the spare bedroom. 

 

Tuesday comes around after a long Monday of studying, and Lance heads to work. He had picked up a lunch shift mainly for two reasons. First, picking up an extra shift when he didn’t have school was a way of reaffirming his position in Shiro’s good books. Second, doing this every now and then reminded him how much he hated lunch shifts and therefore would not be doing it again for a long time. 

 

This was a particularly bad one. He had one table. The entire time. 

 

So after the long, frustrating weekend he had followed up with this horrible lunch service, he’s in a pretty bad mood as he sits at a table in one of Altea’s event spaces with Shiro and the other Captain who had worked lunch with them. Shiro was wearing the expression of a restaurant manager who had been in the industry for five years, which was five years too long. It was a pretty common look. Lance was shuffling his staff meal around his plate - he worked at the best restaurant in the state, and they couldn’t be bothered to make halfway decent food for the staff. 

 

Well, the asian cucumber salad the other week was pretty good. He wished he had it now. 

 

Keith walked over to the table, still in his street clothes. Shiro glanced up at him and put down the chicken wing he had been eating.

 

“Hey, just getting in?” 

 

“Yeah. How’s shift meal?”

 

“I’ve had better.” 

 

Keith looks over at Lance. “We’re out of bread.”

 

Lance frowned. “What? We bought bread the other day.” 

 

“No, we didn’t. You insisted we had some.” 

 

“Ugh, fine, I’ll get some after work tonight.” 

 

“You guys are living together?” 

 

Keith and Lance turned to look at the other Captain, Plaxa. Lance had been temporarily enamored with her when he first started working at Altea. Now he was...older. Used to her brand of beauty.

 

“Yeah, he moved in last month.” Lance said. 

 

“Oh.” She tilted her head to the side. “I’m glad you two are happy together.” 

 

Lance choked on his rice and felt his face burn. “Excuse me?”

 

“Well...you’re dating, right?” 

 

“We’re not dating.” Keith said quickly, his own face bright red. 

 

“But...you live together...and grocery shop together…” 

 

Lance was having an aneurysm

 

“What is it with the grocery shopping?” Lance demanded. “We live together! It makes sense to go together! Is it code for something and no one told me?” 

 

“It is pretty domestic.” Plaxa said quietly. 

 

“Shiro, tell her she’s wrong.” 

 

“I mean, Adam and I used to go on dates to the grocery store.” Shiro shrugged, his voice much stronger than the last time he had attempted to talk about Adam. “It was really the only time we had to spend together.” 

 

“You are not helping!” Keith snapped. “And you were hardly role models. You ran him over in a McDonald’s parking lot, and he asked you out in the bathroom.” 

 

“Do as I say, not as I do.” Shiro quipped. “Besides, it’s not like your love life is anything to write home about.”

 

Keith turned around on his heel and stormed towards the locker room to change for his shift. Lance watched him go, trying to process. His mom, Plaxa, now Shiro…

 

“Dios.” Lance squeaked. “I’ve been dating Keith and I haven’t even realized it.” 

 

Shiro snorted and looked at Lance. “Trust me, if you were dating my brother, he would have told me by now.” 

 

Lance was pretty distracted for all of dinner service, screwing up a few orders and confusing his wines. Luckily he didn’t see Keith at all, and got to go home early because he was on a double.

 

He didn’t mind if anyone thought Keith was his boyfriend. Keith was gorgeous. And occasionally sweet. And unreadable. 

 

Lance just didn’t want to be confronted about it. 

 

Because it made him a blushing stuttering spitting mess. And it made Keith bright red. Which was interesting. 

 

After the shift, he headed for the White Lion for Dollar Beers. Before he could find Hunk and Pidge, he’s accosted by a girl with blue hair and a nose ring. 

 

“Hey!” she smiled.

 

“Heeeyyyy…”

 

“Art department? Gave you directions?” 

 

“Right.”

 

“How’s your boyfriend?” 

 

Lance turned around, walked out of the bar, and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my God. I had the greatest head cannon. 
> 
> So, as much as I love the idea of Keith learning Spanish for Lance, let's slow our roll and think about it for a minute. Keith is bouncing around foster homes in the American southwest. At least a few of these homes have got to be filled with the children of Mexican immigrants who are detained during border crossing. These kids barely speak any English, so Keith kind of picks up some Spanish. He's not fluent, and he can't really speak it, but he understands enough. 
> 
> So, Lance, in the beginning, is constantly cursing under his breath in Spanish. He's used to doing this so he doesn't get smacked by his mother, except now it's Shiro who does the smacking. Shiro has no idea what he's saying, but Keith does and doesn't tell anyone. These insults, usually at him, are familiar because it's similar to what the kids in foster homes say about him. 
> 
> Time goes on, Lance gets comfortable muttering in Spanish, and stops insulting. He's dropping compliments and flirting instead, all in an angry tone. Cause Keith doesn't know any better, right? He doesn't know Spanish, right? And now Keith really can't own up to it because he let it go for so long and honestly it's kind of doing it for him and...well...blackmail. 
> 
> This goes on for a while until after a particularly bad mission where everything gets Voltron-ed and everyone almost dies again, Lance says something stupid like, "I'm so mad, I could kiss you!" and Keith just turns around and says, "Well why don't you, cabron?"
> 
> Lance dies. 
> 
> I don't know, I'd need a translator to help me do this properly. Thoughts?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge has a eureka moment, and Lance digs his hole a little deeper.

Lance didn’t like to admit that he had consciously stopped dating.

 

He could, if he wanted to. The ladies loved him. The boys did too. Or, they had. At some point. There was only so many times he could be ditched, cheated on, or replaced before he lost heart. And honestly dating in high school was so different from college. Mainly that in high school people actually...dated. College was hook-up culture. No one was actually sober enough to like anyone. 

 

Lance was a hopeless romantic. He changed his ways to fit in, of course, but he always ended up wanting more when the other person didn’t. God, some didn’t even want to get breakfast in the morning. 

 

Eventually he just...lost interest. He was so tired of giving and giving and never getting anything back. Or being told he was too much, asking for too much. So instead he stopped asking. Besides, he shouldn’t subject anyone to being with him when half the time he didn’t feel completely human. 

 

So he would dive into school work. Dive into work. Avoid the impending day where he couldn’t get out of the house, pray it falls on a Monday. Avoid the feelings he buried so long ago. Definitely avoid the memories of Space Lance, because those just made everything so much more confusing. 

 

Like right now, looking at Keith. He trusts Keith, but no where near how much Space Lance trusts Keith. Well, his version of Keith, at least. Because they’ve been through so much together. And Keith never, ever fails him. 

 

Space Lance feels everything so deeply, and usually hides it. Especially when it comes to his friends. Maybe it’s just because he’s been through so much. 

 

Keith is frowning at the Queer Lit reading and chewing on his pen on the couch. Lance can’t see him from his spot on the floor, but he’s seen it enough times to know what it looks like. Lance has his own reading he should be doing, but he has his Space Lance notebook out instead. Red was behaving himself for once, curled up on Keith’s legs. 

 

Now that everyone had told him the grocery thing was super weird and domestic, he was starting to wonder what else was. Probably days like this. 

 

But Lance tells himself white lies about how he needs to be around someone right now, to ground him. Especially after he realized he had been listening to Julia Kent’s “Dorval” on repeat all day. A short, beautiful song he could write an essay about, but still a sign that he was close to being buried in his own head.

 

Keith gently nudged the back of his head with his foot.

 

“Owww.” Lance whined. 

 

“Study.” 

 

“Don’t wanna.” Lance pouted. 

 

“You told me to keep you focused. So, focus.” 

 

“I am focused.” 

 

“Not on your homework.” 

 

“It’s still focus.” 

 

A few minutes of silence. 

 

“More Space Lance?” 

 

Lance craned his neck back to scowl. “How do you know about that?” 

 

“Pidge told me. She’s worried about you.” He paused. “She gave me a list of schizophrenia symptoms to look out for.” 

 

“Great.” Lance deadpanned, looking back at his notebook. 

 

A few more minutes of silence. 

 

“Whatever it is...you’re not crazy.” 

 

“Thanks, Doctor Keith.” 

 

“What do you think it is?” 

 

“I dunno. Probably just my imagination over reacting. Especially cause everyone’s like...the same. Just different reasons for us all being broken. PTSD instead of Depression. Aliens instead of terrorists and religious fanatics. You know.” 

 

“Am I there?” 

 

“Yeah. You’re team leader. Half alien.” Lance paused. “Total badass.” 

 

Keith chuckled. “Are we friends?” 

 

“Sorta. We hated each other at first.” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

“Mhmm.” 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“You fell for my charming good looks and sense of humor.” 

 

“Sounds about right.”

 

Lance looks back again to see Keith smiling at him, but he could hear it in his voice anyway. The tenderness. And Lance...doesn’t know what to do with that. Keith gives him those looks a lot, which is just...he’s not sure if it makes him want to bury his face in the pale skin or run very, very far away. Maybe all the way back to his abuela's house in Cuba.  _ Or Olkarion.  _

 

Being friends with Keith, before he ran off and got taller and muscled and centered, had been difficult enough. Letting Keith move in was just idiotic. 

 

He’s not going to think about this. 

 

Instead he says, “Your birthday’s coming up.” 

 

“...you remember?” 

 

“As the designated party planner and head decorator of Team Voltron, I remember all holidays. Including Mullet’s Birthday.” 

 

“It’s a holiday?” 

 

“In the calendar and everything.” 

 

It actually was scribbled on the Pusheen the Cat calendar in the kitchen -  **_October 23, Mullet’s Birthday_ ** . Lance was surprised Keith hadn’t noticed it. He was beginning to suspect Keith was either numb to or actually liked the nickname. Either way, he’d have to do better.

 

“So, what theme would you like your party to be?” Lance asked, flipping to a clean page like he might have to take notes. “We did Resident Evil last year, so we can’t do that again.” 

 

“Last year was another year I said I didn’t want a party.” 

 

“But I like throwing parties. Besides, now that I think of it, that was our Halloween party because someone was being a stick in the mud.”

 

“Too bad it’s my birthday and not yours.” 

 

“Just trying to do something nice for my friend.” Lance sulked. 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. Lance could practically feel it. “Lance, no parties. Okay? Just...if it’s that important, we can all go to the White Lion and have a few drinks. In the meantime,” Keith reached down and yanked Space Lance’s notebook out of his grip, “study.”

 

~*~

 

_ Hours later, Hunk straightened up. “Keith, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” _

 

_ “Sure.” _

 

_ “Why did you pick Lance? When Bob put us in the game show?” _

 

_ “I told you - “ _

 

_ “Yeah, yeah, you and Lance hate each other.” Pidge said, bored with his excuses. “Tell us the real reason.” _

 

_ He looks between Hunk and Pidge, watching him expectantly. What the hell do they expect him to say? _

 

_ That Lance deserved a fucking break for once? That maybe he was always overlooked and deserved to be the first choice? That he embodied everything a Paladin should be? That his calm calculation in the face of danger could give Shiro and his mantra of ‘Patience yields focus’ a run for his money? That he had grown so much, and his family deserved to see that? That Keith was constantly torn between wanting to run like hell from the tall Curban and never leaving his side again? _

 

_ That half of what he does is to protect Lance? _

 

_ “Because I knew he wouldn't stop at anything to get the rest of us out.” Keith finally said. “And he’d be capable enough to do it.” _

 

_ Hunk bit his lip. _

 

_ “Oh, my God.” Pidge whispered. _

 

_ Keith’s heart froze. Did she know? Read all his other thoughts? _

 

_ But she jumped off the bed. “I have to talk to Slav! Have everyone meet me in the conference room in a varga. I think I know where Lance is!” _

 

_ Keith and Hunk exchanged a look.  _

 

_ “Where…? Pidge! He’s right here!” _

 

_ But she was already gone, bursting through the door and blowing past James Griffin, standing there with his hand raised like he was about to knock. He held a vase of sunflowers in his other hand, and Keith and Hunk stared at him.  _

 

_ “I...heard what happened.” he said slowly, stepping inside. “Uhm...is he going to be okay?”  _

 

_ Hunk turned away and looked back at his best friend.  _

 

_ James cleared his throat. “Anyway...I brought these...Kinkade said they’re his favorite, so…”  _

 

_ Keith suddenly felt like he was going to vomit, or throw something. How the fuck did Ryan Kinkade, of all people, know what Lance’s favorite flower was?  _

 

_ And why the hell didn’t he know that? _

 

_ Keith pushed past James, telling Hunk he was going to go find Shiro. _

 

~*~

 

Lance slowly opened his apartment door, mostly paying attention to the text he was writing out to Ryan Kinkade about their upcoming genetics presentation. He and Ryan had been lab partners in Intro Chemistry their freshman year, and tried to take labs together since because they worked well together. Ryan was a pretty quiet guy, even quieter than Keith, and didn’t seem to mind Lance filling the silence. In fact, he might be the only person who never once said that Lance was a blather mouth. 

 

He liked Ryan. If only he didn’t hang around with that jackass James Griffin, they’d probably be friends. Lance is starting to realize, as he gets older, there’s less and less people he’s willing to put up with. Maybe Pidge is rubbing off on him. Maybe he still hasn’t forgiven James for being a massive asshole to Keith their freshman year. 

 

Lance sent his text and let the door shut behind him. He was starving, but didn’t feel like cooking. Maybe he should just order pizza tonight. Well, order garlic knots and get a pizza to meet the delivery minimum…

 

“Oh, good, you’re home.” 

 

That didn’t bode well. Lance looked up to see Keith at the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and leaning on the frame. But he doesn’t look upset, or angry. In fact, he looks a little excited. Lance could probably count on one hand the times he had seen Keith genuinely excited about something, and it usually had to do with paintball. 

 

“I need a mold of your face.” 

 

Lance blinked at his roommate. “...why do I feel like this is a thinly veiled attempt to suffocate me?” 

 

Keith’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “I won’t, I know what I’m doing.”

 

Lance sighed. He was hungry. And tired. And he was very confused as to why Keith needed a mold of his face. So, he asked. 

 

“It’s for a project.” Keith said cagily. “Look, I already did Hunk, and Pidge, and Shiro - “

 

“Wow, you really know how to make a boy feel special.” 

 

“ - don’t you trust me?” 

 

Lance considers this. He trusts Keith to do a lot of things. He trusts Keith to have his back at paintball, or when a bar fight breaks out (not that it had happened yet). He trusts Keith at work, to make sure the food for his tables doesn’t get screwed up. 

 

_ He trusts Keith sneaking around in a Galra base, and out in the vacuum of space. Saving each other over and over. Trusts him with his life. But never, ever, with his -  _

 

Lance gritted his teeth and pushed Space Lance’s thoughts away. “Fine.” he concedes. “But you’re buying pizza.” 

 

“I already ate.” 

 

“That’s my price. Pizza, or no face mold.” 

 

Keith groaned, but took out his phone. “Fine.”

 

“Don’t forget the garlic knots!” Lance reminded brightly, heading for his room to put down his stuff. 

 

“How could I.” Keith deadpanned. 

 

Lance put down his book bag and changed into sweats before heading back into the living room, where Keith was spreading towels out on the couch. Judging by the supplies already prepped and lined up, he wasn’t going to let Lance say no. Lance probably should have held out for a little longer. Maybe gotten some ice cream out of the deal. 

 

“Always knew this beautiful face would be needed someday.” Lance joked. 

 

The corner of Keith’s mouth twitched. “Sit.” 

 

“Yessir.” 

 

Lance sat on the towels and Keith grabbed a jar of Vaseline. 

 

“What’s that for?” Lance asked suspiciously. 

 

“Your hair and skin.”

 

“What?” Lance squaked. “No. No way.” 

 

“Lance!” 

 

“It’ll be impossible to get out!” 

 

“It’s Vaseline, or your hair gets ripped out by alginate.” Keith threatened. 

 

Lance continued to scowl at him. 

 

“Lance, I promise I know what I’m doing.”

 

_ If it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t ask.  _

 

“Fine.” Lance angled his face up. “Do your worst.” 

 

Keith scooped some vaseline onto his fingers and Lance waited for a clumsy smear that never came. Instead, gentle fingers reached out and traced his eyebrows, trailing vaseline where they went. Keith put a knee up on the couch to balance himself as he leaned over him. 

 

Keith was so focused, he didn’t notice when Lance’s cheeks darkened. This was oddly intimate. Lance should have never agreed to this. He had been doing a lot of things he should have never agreed to lately. 

 

He smelled like coffee and slightly metallic, probably from working on his torso-sculptures earlier in the day. Lance very briefly wonders if he tastes the way he smells, or if he’s like a wine that smells like stone fruit and tastes like saline and granite.

 

“What’s this for?” Lance asked. 

 

“Just a project.” Keith mumbled, not meeting his eyes. 

 

“Why don’t you ever talk about your art?”

 

He shrugged. “You never ask.”

 

“I’m asking now.” 

 

Keith sighed, his breath blowing across Lance’s face. “I don’t know, Lance. I just always thought people should at least see my art before they want to talk about it.”

 

“So deep.”

 

“Shut up.” 

 

“You’re definitely ready for your gallery debut.”

 

“Close your eyes so I can get your eyelashes.” 

 

“Can I open them after?” 

 

“No.” 

 

Good. He was dying under that beautiful face. 

 

Lance closed his eyes, and immediately realized that this was much, much worse. He tries to keep telling himself it’s all for the sake of art, but it’s really hard to with fingers tracing his lips and there’s no visual context to remind him this is not, in fact, one of those horrible dreams he has now and then about pale legs splayed across his hips. 

 

He wished he could blame said dreams on Space Lance, but they had been happening for a long time now. Pretty much any time he wasn’t distracted by someone else. Which, since his recent celibacy, was all the time. 

 

Dios, why did he change into sweats? Hopefully Keith would be too focused on his face to notice the half-chub that was now definitely there. He needed to get a grip.

 

Keith finally moved on to slicking his hair back, and it got a little easier to breathe. 

 

“Last chance to back out.” Keith tells him. 

 

“Well, you already have me prepped.” Lance can barely keep the laugh at his double entendre out of his voice. “I mean, might as well, at this point.”

 

Keith choked and Lance frowned. 

 

“You alright, Mullet?” 

 

“Fine.” Keith said, his voice a little high. “Uhhh...okay. I think I got everything.” 

 

“You think? I swear to God, Keith, you rip one hair out - “

 

“Just...everything’s covered, okay? So, I’m going to start with the alginate. You can’t move a single muscle once I start, okay? You have to stay exactly still.”

 

“Alright.” 

 

“I’m serious, Lance.”

 

“Okay, I can do this.” 

 

“And I need you to smile.” 

 

“What?” 

 

Keith sounded so flustered at the request, and granted it was an odd one. Lance really wanted to open his eyes to see what that looked like on him. Not that he hadn’t seen it before, but it was good to have reminders every now and then. 

 

“Just...it’s for the project, okay? I need you to smile. Like, not a teeth smile. A small smile.” 

 

Lance sighed. “And this is why you’re a visual artist, not a songwriter or author. So articulate. Okay, like this?” 

 

Lance smiled. 

 

“Yeah, like that.” A pause. “Okay, just...stay still.” 

 

Heavy alginate poured over his face, Keith guoding it across his skin and carefully avoiding his nostrils. Lance tried to keep his smile the still and his mind blank. For the sake of art.

 

~*~

 

_ Keith knew exactly where Shiro would be, but he took his time anyway. He had a lot on his mind, he needed to sort it out. And honestly, guarding Lance’s sleeping body for the past three days didn’t seem to be helping anything.  _

 

_ The pitying look on James’ face had been so out of place. A glare was what Keith was accustomed to.  _

 

_ When Lance started with the whole rivalry thing, Keith remembered thinking, Great. Another James Griffin. It took him a long time to realize that Lance and James were nothing alike.  _

 

_ Sure, they both pushed him. Acted jealous. Acted hateful. But James acted that way because he thought he deserved to be Keith. He thought he deserved the talent and the attention. Lance acted that way because he didn’t think he measured up, and was desperately trying to be better. To be good enough.  _

 

_ Keith wished he had noticed it sooner. Had said something, anything, to tell him he was more than good enough. That he had always been brilliant.  _

 

_ James didn’t push him anymore, but now and then Keith could still see the jealousy. The flash of hatred. Like he thought he deserved to be the paladin, the one who saved the universe.  _

 

_ “You want this, take it,” Keith wants to scream. “You think you could have done better? Take the scars and the nightmares and the blood on your hands. You can be the one with the weight on your shoulders and with Kinkade in the hospital bed.”  _

 

_ Because if it had been James and not him, maybe it wouldn’t have been any of them. And then maybe Shiro would be whole and Adam would be alive. And maybe they would have found a cure for Shiro that didn’t involve cutting off his arm. And maybe they all would have gotten to grow up normally, and Pidge would have been able to keep her family together, and maybe he and Lance could have developed naturally. He’d trade his mother and his truths for all of that.  _

 

_ He’d trade everything he had gained in space to give back what it had taken from his friends. Go back to being the broken delinquent cursed with memories of his father. Here, at the end of the road, he just wants all the people he loves to be whole.  _

 

_ But he also knows, after so long of living in this world of science and magic and wonder, that it had to be like this. That James wouldn’t have lasted two days in space, because he likes rules and orders too much. Voltron needed a certain element of chaos.  _

 

_ It needed dualities, he’s come to realize. Because he knows that as much as his own impulsiveness has almost killed himself and everyone else, it’s also saved them so many times. The same as Shiro’s undying need to beat the odds even if it drove him away from his partner in the first place. The same as Hunk’s huge heart driving him to do the right thing as much as it holds him back. The same as the rebellious fire in Pidge pushing her to her physical limits as she breaks her mental ones. The same as Lance’s undying belief in all of them, even as it cripples his own self-worth.  _

 

_ He finally reached the Memorial Hall, where Shiro is sitting on the floor and staring at one tiny plaque among many. Beating himself up again, and again.  _

 

~*~

 

Lance had hidden himself away in a corner of the main coffee shop on campus, trying to get a bit of work done before his next class. He wanted to be outside, but it had gotten chilly and it seemed only the Canadians and the smokers could withstand it. 

 

“Have you ever read any Philip K Dick?” 

 

Lance looked up at Pidge, who had appeared from thin air. “Who?” 

 

“He wrote Paycheck. And Blade Runner.” She dumped her backpack, which was almost as large as she was, on the floor and fell into the chair across from Lance. “He did a couple of stories about alternate universes and realities.”

 

“I thought you didn’t read fiction.” Lance said, putting aside his work and remembering her rant in sophomore year about the evils of books of lies.

 

“I don’t, but Matt does, and I remember him telling me about this one short story. It has to do with the personal universe theory.” 

 

“Okay…”

 

“So, in this story, this guy is just living out his average kind of crappy life and this woman arrives, and she tells him that they are in his universe and he can change it at his will, because it exists to make him happy. And she came from her own personal universe because she wants the real him.” Pidge was looking at him expectantly. “Eventually, he kicks her out, but the idea got me thinking. What if that’s what Space Lance is?” 

 

“Uh...I’m not following.” 

 

“What if Space Lance is a different version of you, and for some reason he’s in this universe just kind of...tagging along.”

 

Lance burst out laughing. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

 

She scowled at him. “What? It’s better than you having a schizophrenic break though!” 

 

“Pidge, if that’s even remotely possible - “

 

“You said Space Lance has traveled to other realities before!”

 

“ - why the hell would he want to come here? The dude lives in space and pilots a robotic lion and is twice the sniper I’ll ever be. He’s a hero.”

 

He’s everything I want to be, he thinks. 

 

“What’s so great about working as a server and dealing with my depressed ass all the time?” 

 

Pidge sighed and threw her hands into the air. “I don’t know, Lance! You tell me! You’re the one who keeps saying his life is so similar to yours. Maybe think about what’s different!” 

 

Lance opened his mouth to retort, then shut it. What was different? 

 

Sometimes when he looked at Hunk and Pidge, he got twinges of jealousy. Those had always been there, especially after they moved in together and didn’t invite Lance, but now they’re sort of...painful…

 

Looking at Allura and knowing he was still attracted to her but knowing he had to stop because she didn’t see him as more. He had taken her on a date after her last boyfriend turned out to be a massive douche but they both agreed it was just awkward and left it at that. But Space Lance seemed to think he suddenly had a chance... 

 

And when he looked at Shiro, sometimes he thought about all the times he had been told to stay out of it. Sit down and shut up. It wasn’t his place. Moments that had never happened. And then sometimes his mind would scream,  _ That wasn’t him!  _ But it still hurt…

 

A growing distance between himself and Keith. Lance knew that he and Keith were getting along really well. But this other part of him remembered...a retreating back. Trying to bridge a distance and being greeted with coldness and not knowing why…

 

“Or, try this.” Pidge said, not noticing the conclusions he was coming to. “You said we’re all there, right? So what’s different about me?” 

 

“Not much, honestly.” Lance said. “You’re still an annoying little gremlin.” 

 

She scowled. “Fine. What’s different about Keith?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“You heard me.” 

 

Lance rolled his eyes. “Well, he’s half - “

 

“Half-alien. I know. That’s just descriptor. Tell me what’s different about his personality. About your relationship with him.”

 

Lance opens his mouth to tell her off about the r-word, but other words are spilling out. Space Lance is taking over, just for a moment. 

 

“ _ He’s just...more. All of you are. He’s rougher around the edges. He’s so mission driven and intense, it’s like he doesn’t even see the peripherals, just what’s in front of him. And I keep trying to show him how much I trust him and admire him and he just...pulls away. He voted me off the game show to get rid of me, it felt like he was kicking me off the team. I’d rather he just come out and say I’m not good enough for him, you know! He probably wants to replace me with Acxa - _ ”

 

“Lance, breathe!” Pidge ordered. 

 

Lance took a deep breath. 

 

“Christ, what was that?” Pidge asked incredulously. “Who the hell is Acxa?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Lance groaned, kneading his eyes as if it would help anything. “Some half-Galra chick who’s in love with Space Keith. I think.” 

 

“What does Keith think of her?” 

 

“ _ Well, he went back to save her. _ ” Lance said bitterly. Space Lance said bitterly. 

 

They sat silently for a moment in the busy coffee shop. Lance was happy he had chosen such a quiet corner so no one could witness him channeling a figment of his imagination, or alternate self, or whatever the hell was going on. 

 

“Lance, I don’t know what Space Lance’s problems are, but if he’s anything like you I’m sure it’s mostly in his head.” Pidge said softly. 

 

Lance swallowed a dry ache in his throat. Not the most comforting thing in the world, he thought. But Pidge was a theoretical physicist’s daughter and a computer scientist, not a therapist. That was why he usually went to Hunk with this stuff. 

 

But she was trying, which meant the world. “Thanks, Pidge.” 

 

“And hey, Keith would be lucky to have you. In any universe, alright?”

 

Lance felt his face burn. That wasn’t even...he had been talking about the team! “Sh-shut up.” 

 

She gave him an annoying smile. “Well, now that we’re done with the emotional mushy crap, what do you think? Space Lance is from an alternate universe?” 

 

Lance looked at his hands, trying to recover from the wild ride this conversation had been. That new part of his mind, the part that held Space Lance’s memories, was quiet now. After the words that had spilled from his mouth it had retreated, much like his own bursts of social energy followed by exhausted days on his couch not answering the phone. 

 

“Well, it’s better than being crazy.” he said weekly. 

 

“That’s the spirit.” She stood up. “Hey, I’ll walk you to class. We can talk about Keith’s birthday.” 

 

“How do you know I’m - “

 

“Because it’s you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is confusing and a mess. I'm sorry. I feel like this should be something that you read all the way through, and then when you go back and read the whole thing again it will make more sense. 
> 
> Also, the theme song for this should have been "Godzilla" by With Confidence, so I screwed that up. Although the title will relate to the ending. Got it all planned out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday plans and Shiro's guilt.

Lance knows he doesn’t look like a truck person. 

 

To be fair, his pick-up is bright red and it’s a little smaller than the average truck. It’s old. It doesn’t match his nightly skin care routine and reusable shopping bags.

 

But it’s been in his family for ages. It had been passed from sibling to sibling, collecting more ice cream stains and sand and accumulating pot smoke in the beige fabric seats until landing with Lance. His mother kept begging him to give up the damn thing, that she’d give him the money for a down payment on a new car. A new truck, if he really wanted. But how could he give up the truck bed he and his siblings had watched so many firework displays from? The front seat Veronica had her first kiss in? The cassette player and radio he and Luis had wailed along to? The bumper Rachel dented when she backed into a lampost after finding out she got into Harvard? The wheels that took him and Marco to a million swim meets? 

 

Lance parked outside of the grocery store and jumped down to the ground, pulling a few bags out of the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his chest against the rain. This wasn’t the warm tropical rain he loved, this was the freezing bitter fall rain of the northern Atlantic. He’d never forgive his parents for relocating them so far north when he was a kid. 

 

He dashed to the overhang in front of the automatic doors and grabbed a mostly dry cart, and rattled along inside the store. 

 

God, he hated grocery shopping alone. 

 

He used to call his mother every week while he shopped, but now that he was dragging Keith along he had company. Today was different though. Today he was grabbing a few things for Keith’s birthday under the guise of getting milk and bread. So Keith couldn’t be here. 

 

Sure, Keith had told him no parties. And this wasn’t a party. This was a gesture. 

 

Lance was in way over his head, and had been for a long time now. 

 

Lance pushed his cart through the store, slightly bothered by the hushed sound of the store at three pm on a Thursday. Normal things like this, not surrounded by anything remotely familiar, were when Space Lance remained quiet. So not even that could distract him. 

 

He didn’t know why he had so readily accepted Pidge’s explanation of what was happening in his mind. But the alternate universe theory was better than schizophrenia or bipolarism or anything else. 

 

Even if Space Lance made everything very confusing whenever he looked at his friends. 

 

Lance grabbed the few groceries he needed before turning into the ‘Seasonal’ aisle with a grin, bombarded by candy and orange and black decorations. He loved Halloween. 

 

But this wasn’t a Halloween party. Not party. Gesture. Not a Halloween gesture. 

 

Lance was looking at candles when his phone chimed multiple times. He dug in his pocket to find the device and frowned at the alerts from his mother. Two photos of his parent’s golden lab-boxer mix with another dog, some sort of terrier mix. 

 

**Mama: Brothers getting along!!!**

 

Brothers? 

 

Lance immediately hit the call button and held the phone to his ear. It rang a few times, and he picked out a box of plain white tapered candles. He pushed the cart along to the candy.

 

“You have reached the voicemail box of - “

 

Lance swore very loudly and hung up. He could feel the glare of a middle aged man on the other end of the aisle as he searched for Luis’ contact information instead. He, luckily, picked up on the third ring. 

 

“Heyyyy, hermanito!” 

 

“Mama got another dog?” Lance demanded. 

 

“Yeah, like two weeks ago.” 

 

Lance sputtered. “Two weeks? Why did no one tell me? Am I even a part of this family anymore?” 

 

He could practically hear Luis rolling his eyes through the phone. “Well, you never call.” 

 

“I talked to her two days ago!” 

 

Lance wasn’t really surprised that his mother had gotten another dog. After their childhood dog, Cosmo, had died a year ago, everyone was distraught. Lance himself had cried for a whole day, and he had pulled himself together faster than anyone else. His father had gone out to the shelter in a fit of depression and brought home Holmes, the lab-boxer mix, which seemed to fix most of the grief. Holmes was the happiest, friendliest dog in the world. The plan had always been to get a second dog, now that the kids were out of the house and it was good to have another dog when, eventually, Holmes died. 

 

Lance was just upset no one bothered to tell him. 

 

“Well, Mama saw him and just fell in love. His name is Darcy, and he’s a proud aloof asshole. He bullies Holmes and Mama’s the only one he likes.” 

 

Lance sighed and tossed a few bags of candy into his cart. “Sounds like Cosmo.” 

 

They had all loved Cosmo. But Cosmo could be...a jerk. Cosmo also liked to run away a lot. It had led to some traumatizing moments in Lance’s childhood. 

 

“I think we all just assumed someone else told you.” Luis said, sounding a little guilty. “We’ve all been busy. I’m sure you get that, with school. And work. And your boyfriend.” 

 

Lance sputtered again. “I don’t have a boyfriend!” 

 

“Mama says you do.” 

 

“Mama’s been drinking too much.” 

 

“Mama hasn’t had a drink in twenty years.” 

 

“Next you’re going to tell me she’s a virgin.” 

 

“Don’t talk about my mother that way!” 

 

Lance had to laugh. Out of all his siblings, he was probably closest to Veronica. But he and Luis were probably the most similar. Half the things that came out of Luis’ mouth were exactly what Lance had been thinking. When they bickered, it was sometimes hard to tell who was saying what. 

 

“Anyway, how are grad school applications going?” 

 

Shit. 

 

“Uhhhh...they’re not.” 

 

Luis paused, and Lance winced. 

 

“Why not?” There was an odd note in Luis’ voice. “I mean...I was under the impression that for biology you kind of have to go to grad school.” 

 

“I mean, yeah. But I think I need a year off.” 

 

“Why?”

 

“I just…” 

 

He’s a depressed wreck with an alternate universe version of himself living in his head and he wants to apply for school so that he has a future he isn’t even really sure he wants. He can’t even really figure out what he wants to go to school for. Oh, and he forgot to take his GRE’s, because the thought of doing anything with his life scares the crap out of him. As much as he wants to be great.

 

Space Lance had it so easy. He literally knocked on a particle barrier and became a hero. Regular Lance has no idea what he wants out of his life. 

 

“I don’t see the point of spending all kinds of money and going into debt like that if I’m not sure what I want.” Lance explained. This was somewhat true. “And yeah, I have a few ideas of what I want, but I’m not completely sure.” 

 

“Well, okay. That’s...logical. But what are you going to do?” 

 

“I don’t know. Get a job at a pharma company or something.” 

 

That thought depressed Lance even more. He scowled at the small selection of birthday candles and selected a pack of black and white ones.

 

“Besides,” Lance continued, “you’re not exactly one to lecture me, Mr Quits-School-to-Tour-and-Follow-My-Dreams.” 

 

“I’m not lecturing you. I just...I don’t know, Lance. I just want to make sure you know what you’re doing.” 

 

“Yeah. I do.” 

 

_ Liar. _

 

Lance’s phone chimed, and he pulled it away from his ear to read the notification. 

 

**Mullet: Can you pick me up from the gym? I walked here and it’s pouring and no one’s picking up.**

 

Lance sighed and put the phone back to his ear. “Luis, I gotta go. Keith needs a ride.” 

 

“Ohhhhh, Keith’s the boyfriend, right?” 

 

“He’s not - “

 

“Go ahead, run off to play Dashing Hero Lancelot.”

 

“Oh, my God. It’s just a ride.” 

 

“Riiiigggghhht. Just like it’s just a room in your apartment. And just a trip to the grocery store.” 

 

“Mama was talking behind my back!?”

 

“Your idiocy is one of our favorite topics of conversation.” 

 

Lance let off a long slur of insults in Spanish as his brother laughed and hung up. Furious, Lance texted Keith back and pushed the cart towards the registers. He considered throwing in something about being the last resort, but doesn’t want to know how Keith will respond to that. 

 

Lance paid for his stuff, making sure the birthday candles were at the very bottom of his recycled plastic shopping bag, and ran across the parking lot to his truck. It had started pouring…

 

Lance turned the key and rubbed his hands together as freezing air started blowing. He cranked the heat and set up his bootleg car stereo - a small bluetooth speaker that connected to his phone. The truck still had a cassette player, and though he still had a few of his father’s old salsa tapes, he wasn’t really in the mood. 

 

He scrolled through his Spotify before settling on Four Chords, which he could usually count on to change his mood. It worked, and soon he was singing along to the pop mash up as he drove over to the jiu-jitsu dojo Shiro and Keith had frequented for the past few years. 

 

Axis of Awesome morphed into Sara Bareilles as he parked at the curb, and he sang along louder, wailing against the rain pounding into the truck. 

 

“Say what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly, I wanna see you be brave!” 

 

He was so into it that he didn’t notice the dark figure darting through the rain. And when Keith opened the door and flung himself into the passenger seat, Lance screamed at a pitch he didn’t want to admit he was capable of. 

 

“Calm down! It’s just me!” Keith grumbled, shoving his gym bag next to Lance’s groceries at his feet. 

 

Lance scrambled for the volume dial and turned the music back down, and Keith combed soaking wet hair out of his face. Lance yelped again when he saw his black eye. 

 

“What the hell happened to you?” Lance demanded, grabbing his chin to inspect the damage. 

 

“Christ, Lance, let go - “

 

“You have a black eye!” 

 

“I got distracted.” Keith grumbled. “Took a knee to the face. I’m fine.” 

 

Keith smelled like sweat from his work out and his skin was wet from the rain. He refused to meet Lance’s eyes, like a kid in trouble. And who the hell was Lance to grab him and mother hen him like that? 

 

This was such a compromising position. His mother would have a field day if she saw. But he couldn’t release him, and couldn’t keep his eyes from darting away from the bruise and down to the pale, full lips. 

 

_ Reminds me of when we were kids at the garrison, _ Space Lance whispered in his head.  _ Even without a war on he finds a way to fight.  _

 

“You’re worse than Shiro.” Keith grumbled at him.

 

Lance finally released him and looked away. 

 

“It’s not a bad thing for people to give a damn about you.” Lance muttered, shifting the truck’s gears and craning his whole body to check the road behind him. 

 

The song changes again, filling the silence between them. Unfortunately, the one that comes on, makes Lance oddly...uncomfortable. Like he shouldn’t be listening to this alone with Keith, because if hit way too close to home. If Lance was being honest, which these days he found he rarely was, he always thought this song accurately described how he wanted a life partner to make him feel. 

 

_ You make me feel like a shooting star _

_ You make me feel like a porno star _

_ You hold me closer still when I get paranoid _

_ You give your hand to hold when I lose control. _

 

Then Keith, of all people, start humming along, and Lance wants to crash the car and just end everything. He could just change the damn song, but now Keith is fucking humming along, oblivious and enjoying himself and the song, and he can’t. 

 

_ You’re like my compass and we always find our way _

_ You bring your smile and wipe away my shitty day _

_ This sudden alchemy has got me holding on _

_ Stand-by auxiliary signal’s holding strong.  _

 

This was not fair.

 

“Thanks.” Keith finally said. 

 

“What?” 

 

“For picking me up.” Keith glances at him, and then stares out the front window. “And...giving a damn, I guess.” 

 

“What friends are for.” 

 

In his peripherals, Lance can see a funny spasm race across Keith’s face. He stares ahead at the red stop light, trying to remember what homework he had to do tonight. Did he have to wash his work uniforms? He couldn’t remember. 

 

He had to finish coordinating Keith’s birthday. Speaking of, he had to throw Keith off to keep the element of surprise.

 

“Speaking of, what do you want for your birthday?” 

 

Now Keith rolls his eyes. It’s a whole-body action. 

 

“I said - “

 

“You said, no parties.” Lance cut across him. “I can’t throw you a rager, which is fine because you don’t have that many friends anyway - “

 

Keith sputtered. “Asshole - “

 

“ - so you’re getting a present instead.”

 

Keith sighed. “I don’t know Lance. I don’t care.” 

 

“If you say you don’t care, you’re ending up with a Lush gift card.” 

 

“Lush? What’s that?” 

 

Lance actually groaned. This boy…

 

_ You’re so my every day _

_ You’re no my sweetest love _

_ You’re so the greatest change _

_ I’m always dreaming of _

 

He caught the smile on Keith’s face. Cheeky, devilish, completely fucking with him. Knowing exactly which of his buttons to push. 

 

_ He always was good at that. _

 

Thank you, Space Lance. Shut up. 

 

“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?” Lance grumbled. “Show you. Get you another bedazzled knife. Hello Kitty on it.” 

 

“But it’s my  _ birthday _ Lance.” 

 

“Keep this up, we won’t be friends and I won’t be obligated to get you anything.” 

 

Keith was still smirking, and watching the buildings they drove by. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

 

~*~

 

_ Keith sat on the floor next to Shiro, letting his head tip back on the wall behind him.  _

 

_ “Why are you here?” Shiro asked quietly.  _

 

_ “Pidge thinks she knows what’s wrong with Lance.” Keith swallowed heavily. “I knew you’d be here.”  _

 

_ They both looked up at Adam’s plaque on the wall across from them. _

 

_ “You remind me so much of him, you know.” Shiro said softly. “It’s probably why you never got along.”  _

 

_ Keith sighed. “You always did say he was stubborn.”  _

 

_ “Well, there was that. But also...he was so driven.” Shiro tipped his head back against the wall. “I don’t know how many times I had to drag him away from the simulators to make him eat something. It got better as we got older but...we never had as much time together as we should of. We just put...everything else first. And in the end…” _

 

_ Shiro made a helpless gesture and didn’t finish his thought. Keith stared up at the wall of names and remembered Adam, who rolled his eyes and groaned at Shiro’s horrible jokes but always smiled when Shiro wasn’t looking. Adam who bickered with Keith and basically told Keith there was no way he could get his grades up because he knew it was the only way Keith would. Adam who begrudgingly showed up for dinner on Keith’s birthday because it was important to Shiro.  _

 

_ “Promise me you won’t do that, alright?” Shiro said quietly. “Don’t let the war stop you from taking what time you do have together.”  _

 

_ Keith swallowed, his throat dry. “I don’t think...I’m team leader. Lance is always reminding me…he doesn’t want -” _

 

_ “Keith, you need to stop assuming you know what everyone wants.” Shiro looked at the wall again. “Especially Lance. He calculates everything. Do you understand the role a sniper has in battle?” _

 

_ Keith was momentarily stunned by the subject change. So he sighed and suggested, “Show off glory mongers?” _

 

_ “Support.” Shiro corrected gently. “The sniper sees everything, and calculates where the next shot goes. Sensing who needs help before the fighter in question does.” _

 

_ Keith thought about it. _

 

_ “In some ways, Lance is that off the field too. Calculating what he does or says to support the people around him. Some days, it means playing video games with Pidge for five vargas to get her out of her head. Others, it means calming Hunk’s panic attacks.” Shiro sighed. “He calls you ‘Team Leader’ because he wants to reassure you that you’re in the right place. To keep you from going away again.” _

 

_ “Why would he - that’s stupid. I’m not leaving him. Not again.” _

 

_ “Have you told him that?” _

 

_ Keith opened his mouth to say no, he didn’t need to. That Lance knew he was back for good.  _

 

_ Then he remembered the looks Lance gave him when he talked to Axca. When he turned away for the mission. When he kept his distance because of the war, because of Allura, because of everything they had lost. _

 

_ “Maybe you should.” Shiro stood, then lowered his floating arm to give Keith a hand up. “Come on. Let’s go hear what Pidge has cooked up.” _

 

~*~

 

Lance studied the patio attached to the back of Shiro’s apartment. Tapered candles in wine bottles. Fire pit ready to go. Flowers. Grill not yet lit but ready. The weather was miraculously perfect for this, probably being the last warm day of the fall. If it got cold later there was a stack of blankets and Shiro’s Patagonia collection at the ready. Shiro was distracting the guest of honor with a very long trip to the bookstore before they were supposed to meet up at the bar, and would stop here first instead. 

 

“Hunk - “

 

Hunk sighed from his seat at the table, not even bothering to look up from his phone. “Yes, Lance, all the food is ready to go whenever we want to eat. Can you please relax? You’re making me nervous.”

 

“Why are you so worked up anyway?” Pidge asked. 

 

Lance fiddled with the buttons on his black canvas jacket and ignored the tone.

 

“Lance, relax.” Allura said gently, reaching forward to still his hands. Next to her, Coran reached for a slice of cheese and Pidge smacked his wrist. “He’s going to love it.” 

 

“Don’t say that.” Lance groaned. 

 

“Fine. He’s going to hate it.” 

 

“Better.” Lance’s phone dinged and he pulled it from his pocket. “They’re here. Everyone be quiet.” 

 

It wasn’t so much of a jump out surprise party - they were sitting out in the open in broad daylight. But they all still shuffled and giggled nervously as they waited impatiently. All the window were open, so they could hear Shiro and Keith moving through the small apartment. But the blinds were shut so no one could see them until they got outside. 

 

“I swear, it was right here.” Shiro was saying. 

 

“Oh, my God, we’re going to be late for my own birthday.” Keith groaned. “Lance is going to kill us.” 

 

“Can you check the patio for me?” 

 

“Why would your wallet be on the patio?” 

 

“Just go check!” 

 

They listened to Keith cross the kitchen, flinging open the door to the patio and stopping short. “What - “

 

“Happy birthday!” Pidge screamed, throwing her tiny body at him and knocking him back a step. Everyone laughed as shock registered on his face. 

 

“What’s going on?” 

 

Shiro came outside with a big smile on his face. And carrying a bottle of sparkling wine. Keith was taking in the scene in front of him - his friends, the cheese and meat board, the red, orange and yellow flowers laid out as a centerpiece. 

 

“Great acting, Shiro.” Allura praised. 

 

He grinned. “I thought he found me out in the car, but I just pretended to panic some more.”

 

Keith still looked confused. It was adorable. 

 

“This is your birthday party, Keith.” Coran grinned. “Just us, some food, and the campfire. No crazy rager, no dancing. We don’t even have to say the birthday word if you don’t want.” 

 

He looked to his brother, relief flooding through his body. “Thank you.”

 

Shiro smiled slightly and shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m just providing the venue. It was all Lance.”

 

Keith’s gaze swung around to look at Lance, who suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting. 

 

“Lance?” he repeated. “But...you told me - “

 

“I figured you’d like this better.” Lance shrugged.

 

Shiro started pouring out prosecco and handing it out, and Keith crossed the patio. Lance looked up when he saw his boots and black jeans in front of him. Lance looked up to see him...smiling. Giving him that infuriating soft smile that he sometimes gave him.

 

“This looks really great.” Keith said. “Thank you.” 

 

Lance scoffed. “It better look great. I’ve been working on this all week.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes, but he’s still smiling and he still looks really good in his leather jacket and red t-shirt. His eye is still a bit discolored from his accident at the jiu-jitsu dojo the week before, his lips are chapped and his hair is begging for a trim, but he's so...Keith. And Lance thinks he's kind of perfect, and even though he used to hate him for it he doesn't anymore. And Lance really wants to act on impulses, give him a birthday he’ll never forget. Steal him away from their friends. 

 

But Lance is a coward, and even if part of him thinks that maybe, just maybe, Keith wants that too, he’ll never act on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Work has been busy. And this chapter sets up for what happens next, which is like...the big plunge?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge has a plan, and Lance finds his true calling - the Irish goodbye.

Much later in the night, after eating steaks with chimichurri and squash salad and the most decadent chocolate cake with cherry filling, all prepared by Hunk, they lit the firepit and Pidge produced a box of Cards Against Humanity. The whole world smells like campfire, and their faces are bathed in yellow light from the candles. Pidge and Allura were both wrapped in blankets, Coran had claimed a Patagonia fleece, but Lance was okay with his back to the fire. Next to him, Keith had a blanket draped over his legs. 

 

“Okay, kids. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Pidge grinned, shuffling the response cards they had given her. “The class field trip was ruined by...Harry Potter erotica! The class field trip was ruined by...my high tech sex toy collection! You people are nasty.”

 

Allura’s giggling like a schoolgirl, so Lance knows she probably had the sex toy card. He did not expect her to have such a dirty mind, seeing as she was...British and proper. But then again, she’s a bartender. 

 

“The class field trip was ruined by...erotic asphyxiation. The class field trip was ruined by...soup that is too hot. The class field trip was ruined by...The Magic School Bus. Clever. The class field trip was ruined by...a miscarriage. Alright, that’s fucked up.”

 

“I ran out of good cards.” Coran apologized. 

 

Pidge pondered the cards. “I’m going with...Magic School Bus.” Everyone groaned as Hunk grinned. “It’s clever!” 

 

“Who put in the soup card?” Hunk asked, collecting the prompt card he won. 

 

Everyone looked pointedly at Shiro.

 

“I didn’t have anything appropriate!” Shiro protested. 

 

“The point of the game is to be inappropriate, Dad.” Lance reminded. 

 

“Don’t call me dad.” 

 

“But you’re the dad friend! Your inability to play this game with us just proves it.” 

 

Pidge nodded. “He’s got a point.” She glanced at Keith. “High tech sex toys though...I’m a little surprised.” 

 

“I thought that was Allura.” Lance said, frowning at Keith. “You totally would have put Harry Potter erotica if you had it.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “No, that card is ridiculous.”

 

“It’s a trump card.”

 

“Obviously not. If it was, it would have won.” 

 

“How did those two ever become friends?” Allura asked. 

 

Hunk shook his head. “You didn’t know them freshman year. They  _ hated _ each other for like three months. We all lived on the same floor so...there were some loud arguments in the bathroom at seven in the morning.” 

 

“I regret nothing.” Lance said, standing. “Someone needed to tell Mullet his hair was clogging the showers."

 

Keith rolled his eyes. "You were the one leaving toothpaste crap all over the sinks."

 

"Excuse - "

 

Hunk groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Literally could have been anyone. There were twenty people on the floor. Eight of which had long hair."

 

Shiro shook his head at them and asked,  "Anyone need another drink?” 

 

After everyone announced they did, Lance volunteered to help Shiro carry the drinks. Lance knew he probably didn’t need another drink but...well, it was a party. He didn’t have anything to do tomorrow. 

 

While Lance dug in the fridge for more beer, Shiro leaned on a counter and watched the party outside. 

 

“He looks happy.” 

 

Lance looked up from the fridge to see Keith laughing at something Pidge was saying through the windows. Lance bit his lip and turned back to the fridge. “Yeah.” 

 

“You did a really good job with the party.” 

 

Lance shrugged. “I mean, Hunk cooked. I didn’t - “

 

“You organized it. You decorated. You got everyone on the same page.” Shiro paused. “You know, at the last manager’s meeting we were talking about maybe creating an Events Director position. I don’t know what your plans after school are but...I could say I want you to do it.” 

 

Lance looked up at him. “Why?”

 

“Because you’re good at this.” Shiro gestured outside. “And you’re good with the guests at Altea, but you’re not afraid to say no, either. Plus you’ve worked at Altea for two years, you know how we do things.”

 

Lance hesitated. “I don’t know - “

 

“Think about it.” Shiro shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Even if it’s just to take some time off and save money for grad school.”

 

This is a trap, Lance thinks desperately as Shiro took half the beers and walked back outside. The whole fine dining industry was a trap. You started, and it was fun because you’re learning about fancy food and good wine.  And you get such a rush from the busy service. And the money is good. So, so good. So you stay. And you stay. And the next thing you know, you’re thirty five, and you’ve been doing this for too long, and you have varicose veins, and - 

 

Shiro said he’d be good at it. 

 

Lance smiled to himself, and walked back outside to rejoin the game. 

 

~*~

 

_ “Okay, let me get this straight.” Hunk was saying, putting his hands together like a prayer as he spoke to Pidge. “You’re telling me that Lance hit his head so hard that his...essence or whatever...got knocked into an alternate reality.”  _

 

_ They had all gathered in the briefing room for Pidge to make her big announcement. Keith leaned on a wall and was doing his best to wrap his head around the idea, much like everyone else in the room. _

 

_ Years of science and magic, and these things still managed to surprise him. _

 

_ Pidge adjusted her glasses. “Well, yes. Kind of. The Lions record our vitals at all times when we’re in them, so I compared Lance’s current readings to the ones Red took when we were in the game show. They’re practically identical.”  _

 

_ “You think Bob pulled him back into the game show?” Allura asked.  _

 

_ “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. Coran said Bob used that as a test for all of us. I think it’s more likely that after so much time with the Lions and being surrounded by free flowing quintessence, our brain chemistry has been altered. It could have happened to any of us.”  _

 

_ “Well, where is he?” Veronica asked.  _

 

_ “There are any number of realities he could be in.” Slav announced. “Whatever reality he’s in, it is likely his essence has latched onto an alternative version of himself.”  _

 

_ A million scenarios flew through Keith’s mind. Lance trapped in a much more dangerous reality. Lance trapped in a reality where the Galra won Earth. Lance trapped in a reality where there was no Voltron. Lance trapped anywhere, alone.  _

 

_ “How do we get him back?” Keith asked.  _

 

_ “Well, with the game show, we chose each other, and he sent us back…” Hunk reminded. _

 

_ “But if Bob’s not responsible, if it is just an accident…” _

 

_ “The Blue Paladin should be able to come back by himself.” Slav said. “But he may not be fully conscious.” _

 

_ “So, I designed this.” Pidge turned around her laptop and showed the group a schematic on the screen. “We can send one person in after him, make sure he’s awake and bring him home.”  _

 

_ Hunk was looking at Veronica when he quietly asked, “What if he doesn’t want to come back?”  _

 

_ An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.  _

 

_ “We can’t think like that.” Shiro said, speaking for the first time since the Memorial Hall. “Pidge, how long will it take you to build this?”  _

 

_ “With Hunk and Slav’s help? A day? Maybe?” _

 

_ “Get to work.” He looked around the room. “We’re going to get him back.”  _

 

~*~

 

Lance is definitely drunk, and it actually kind of feels freeing. All his friends are drunk too, which makes it better. 

 

And Keith is drunk, which is good. Because it’s his birthday, so he should definitely be drunk. And also, drunk Keith was a rare occurrence, probably because drunk Keith had very few inhibitions. And walked around with a smile plastered to his face. 

 

It had gotten pretty late before they lost interest in Cards Against Humanity, and pretty cold. But they kept throwing wood on the fire to keep the patio warm. Lance knew his apartment would probably reek of campfire for the next week, just from the smell on their clothes, but he doesn’t care. It’ll keep the memories of their laughs alive. 

 

Lance slouched in his chair and rested his feet on the support bars between the table legs, craning his neck back to look at the stars. His inebriation meant that Space Lance was a little louder in his head, a little stronger. He whispered the names of far away systems in the back of his brain, each one having to do with some mission or adventure. 

 

Keith fell back into his chair next to Lance. “Hi.”

 

“Hi.” 

 

“You’re quiet.” 

 

Lance pointed upwards. “Stargazing.” 

 

“Hmm.” Keith smiled slightly. “Good night for it.” 

 

“Yeah. No clouds.” 

 

You couldn’t see much. The light pollution from the city drowned a lot of it out. 

 

“Hunk, Pidge and I used to sneak up to the roof of the science building when we were there working late. To look at the stars. It was best in the winter, cause when the sky is clear it’s just kind of...I don’t know. Beautiful. I’d put on some Russian opera music. Hunk would make hot chocolate on a hot plate and we’d drink out of beakers. Pidge was always looking for alien chatter.” 

 

“Russian opera music?” 

 

Lance turned and saw that small smile, and almost lost his train of thought. Almost. 

 

“Yeah. With the snow around...it just seemed fitting.” 

 

_ Lost in the void of space, holding onto each other and floating aimlessly. Keith’s purple eyes shining at him.  _

 

“Sounds like a good time.” 

 

“Yeah. You’ll have to come with us sometime. Last year before we graduate.” 

 

“That would be nice.” 

 

Lance is drunk, and Keith is pretty. And he can’t help but want to take a trip to the roof of the science building with just Keith. No one else. Not that anyone would notice right now - all their friends are still on the patio with them, but leaving them to their own conversation.

 

“My mom loves stargazing.” Keith slouched to match Lance, looking upwards. “They live in Northern California, pretty far from the cities. I went out with her at night a few times. She thinks all life on Earth is derived from some ancient alien species.”

 

Lance grinned, remembering different time they had gotten drunk and Pidge made them watch a cryptid documentary, and apparently Keith was a believer. “Including mothman?” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Will you ever let that go?” 

 

“Nope.” Lance searched for a familiar constellation, but light pollution meant he couldn’t see much of what he needed to find the patterns. “What else did you do with her?”

 

“I don’t know. Nothing, really. Just kind of...hung around. Got to know her. Went camping a few times. She’s a tattoo artist, so she did my first piece.” 

 

Lance straightened up in his chair and gaped at Keith. “You got a tattoo?” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “Why are you so shocked?”

 

“Show me!” 

 

Keith sighed and sat up as well, and lifted half of his shirt to show Lance the tiny flowers that rose from the hem of his jeans and stretched halfway up his rib cage. It probably hurt, especially considering it was his first.

 

“Forget-me-nots.” Keith explains. “For my dad.” 

 

Lance is trying really hard to focus on the tiny blue flowers, which are hard enough to see in the dimming firelight, but he’s getting distracted by the muscles rippling under the surface. He’s wondering if the ink starts at the hip, or if it goes down Keith’s thigh. He wants to reach out and touch the ink, find out if it’s any different from the rest of the uncolored skin. His throat is dry, his pulse is in his ears.

 

“You alright?” 

 

His eyes snap up to see Keith’s raised eyebrow, and he desperately tries to play it cool. 

 

“Just didn’t think you were the flower type.”

 

“I could so go for some ice cream right now.” Allura groaned from her chair. And Lance desperately turns to her if only to stop looking at Keith. “Shiro, is there any ice cream left?” 

 

“No, Coran ate it all.” 

 

“I work a lot. I need a lot of calories.”

 

Lance turned his head to look at the skinny ginger man. “Where does he put it?” he stage whispered to Keith. 

 

Keith snorted and shook his head, finally lowering his shirt. Coran consistently ate more food than the rest of them. Somehow his beanpole figure hid a black hole of a stomach. 

 

“Where can we get more?” Pidge asked. “It’s eleven at night.” 

 

“Uhh...that place next to the 7-11 is open till midnight.” Hunk remembered. “And they deliver.” 

 

Allura sat up straighter. “They do  _ not _ .” 

 

“Yeah, they do.” 

 

“That is so dangerous.” Pidge whispered. “I love it.” 

 

“There’s a ten dollar minimum, so we need to order at least three pints - “

 

Allura snorted. “Like that’s going to be a problem.” 

 

The three of them moved inside to use a laptop to look at ice cream flavors, and Shiro and Coran followed to get more drinks. 

 

The fire had burnt down to embers, but it was still throwing off a lot of heat. Lance stretched his arms over his head. His position hadn’t been kind to his neck, and the alcohol meant that he hadn’t noticed for a long time. He felt Keith’s eyes on him. 

 

“What?” Lance asked intelligently. 

 

“Nothing.” 

 

Lance lifted a couple of empty cans off the table before finding his half full beer and taking a few gulps. 

 

“Hey, thank you.” 

 

Lance glanced at Keith again. “For what?” 

 

“This.” He gestured around. “I never really realized a party could be...this.” 

 

Lance shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. Hey, how’s your big project coming? The one with all the rebar?” 

 

“It’s...going.” he hesitated. “I kind of hit a road black.” 

 

“That sucks.”

 

“Yeah, well, I have time. The showing isn't until December.” Keith leaned back and let his head loll back against the chair. “Mmmm...I may be a bit drunk.” 

 

Lance smirked. “Oh, really?” 

 

“Mmmm…” He closed his eyes. “Kind of...want to go dancing.” 

 

“Really. The great Keith Kogane, give him a few drinks and he’s basically a sorority girl. Since when do you like dancing?” 

 

“Everyone likes dancing when they’re drunk enough. And you like dancing. Or you used to. I haven’t seen you dance since...like...sophomore year.” 

 

Lanc’s breath caught in his throat. “Didn’t realize you were watching.” 

 

Keith lazily opened his eyes, pinning Lance with that steady gaze. Drawing him in. He sat up again. 

 

“How could I not?” 

 

Keith was leaning towards him, and he was so pretty, and Lance was so drunk. And a huge part of him wants to just let it play out, but... 

 

Lance jumped out of his seat, and Keith looked up at him in shock. 

 

“Uhm...bathroom.” Lance mumbled, fast walking into the house. 

 

He could feel his face burning and a roar in his ears as he sped through the kitchen. He could hear his friends in the living room, but ducked into the bathroom next to Shiro’s bedroom and locked the door behind him. 

 

_ What the hell are you doing?  _

 

Go away, Space Lance. 

 

_ Isn’t that what you wanted?  _

 

Lance leaned on the sink and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked tired, and drunk. And afraid. 

 

_ If you don’t kiss him, I will.  _

 

Lance ducked forward to turn on the fawcett, and splashed his face with freezing cold water. Space Lance may have taken over and spoken a few times, but he doubted he had the strength to take over his body completely.

 

He looked in the mirror again. What the hell was he doing? Keith tried to kiss him. Him! Of all people! And Lance was....

 

Hiding in Shiro’s bathroom. 

 

There was a soft knock on the door. “Lance?” Keith called. 

 

Crap. 

 

“I...I’m sorry.” 

 

_ Now look what you did. He’s apologizing to you.  _

 

“Just...forget it, okay?” 

 

His voice was so quiet and soft, and he could feel Space Lance’s rage. And his own fear. And want. And drunkenness. And he really, really wanted to be kissed by Keith. 

 

_ Stop running.  _

 

Keith was drunk. He knew that. And he knew Keith only tried to kiss him because he wasn’t thinking straight.

 

But...Lance was drunk, too. And Lance wanted Keith. Badly.

 

_ Stop thinking and just do it. _

 

Lance unlocked the door and slowly pulled it open. Keith was leaning against the frame, arms crossed and looking at the floor.

 

“Look, I misread it, and…”

 

Lance cut him off by surging forward and pressing his lips to Keith’s chapped ones. Well, it was more of a desperate face mashing. It was about five agonizing seconds before Keith kissed him back, and suddenly everything was electric. Every nerve was on fire, in spite of the drunk haze over his mind that was convinced this was a good idea. 

 

This was a brilliant idea. 

 

Because if Keith was able to hide behind being drunk, then damn it so was Lance. Because even if it was just one night, he wanted this. He wanted to not think, just for once. 

 

The sounds of their friends laughing and arguing seemed so distant as they stood in the dark hallway, Keith desperately pulling his hips closer. Lance threaded his fingers through the long dark hair, tugging gently to force Keith to expose a wonderfully kissable neck. 

 

“We need to go home.” Keith groaned. “Right now.” 

 

This was a horrible idea. They live together. 

 

_ Stop thinking. Be brave. _

 

So Lance doesn’t think. He doesn’t think as they Irish goodbye and slipped out of the apartment. He doesn’t think as they took three times as long as it usually did to walk the four blocks to their own apartment, having to stop to make out and paw at each other several times. He doesn’t think as he pushes Keith up against the living room wall, whispering a cheeky ‘Happy Birthday’ before dropping to his knees. He doesn’t think as Keith bullies him down onto the mattress and tears at his clothes in a frenzy. 

 

And when it’s over, he’s not drunk anymore. But he’s absolutely intoxicated on the dark haired figure that’s collapsing into his bed next to him. 

 

But the next day brings Lance’s brain back online. His stupid, anxiety-ridden, depressed wreck of a brain.

 

Waking up happens slowly, a sensation where his eyes are open but it’s some time before he had any thoughts or any will to move. The room is filled with grey light, like it’s cloudy out. Cool air in blowing in from the open window, and Lance draws his blankets tighter around him. 

 

The movement brings a splitting headache, and he whimpers. He was twenty-two. He was too young to get hangovers. He shoots an arm out and fumbles on his nightstand, feeling for the large bottle of Advil. Once he finds it and manages to undo the childsafe cap, he swallows two pills dry and closes his eyes again. 

 

There’s steady breathing next to him that lulls him back to sleep. 

 

He’s not sure if it’s a minute or an hour later when his eyes snap open, but he’s fully awake. His headache is gone, but he’s dizzy on the smell of campfire. It’s in his skin and his hair and on the sheets. It overpowers everything, but Lance’s stomach doesn’t lurch until he sees the dark hair on the pillow next to him.

 

Keith is still asleep, blissfully unaware of anything. His face is relaxed, turned away from Lance. His body curled under the blankets, avoiding the cold. 

 

Lance remembers snickering as Keith pushes him against a brick building as they walk home. He remembers whimpering as Keith’s hands and lips tease him. He remembers the groans and curses he coaxed from those chapped lips. The taste of sweat, the feel of flesh between his teeth. Everything sloppy and desperate.

 

It’s overwhelming. How badly he managed to fuck everything up.

 

So Lance threw on some clothes, and bolted from his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University Lance really knows how to dig his hole deeper, doesn't he? Next chapter featuring your favorite super hero, Hunk Garret!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk talks Lance off the ledge, and Veronica apologizes.

**Mullet : I’m going to stay with Shiro for a few days.**

 

Lance tossed his phone into the sand and kneaded his eyes with his palms. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

 

He had driven on autopilot, thirty minutes east to the cold, grey beach he often came to in the warmer weather. It was a good place to be alone, since there was no one here except a couple walking their dog and an old lady with a metal detector. In spite of the cold, he had taken off his shoes to bury his feet in to sand.

 

He wished he was in Cuba. It was warmer. Brighter. Vibrant. The food was better. There weren’t dark haired boys that made his world stop making sense there. 

 

In the car, he hadn’t really thought much. He just drove. He listened to ‘Godzilla’ by With Confidence on repeat, and he wasn’t really sure why. The final lines kept echoing in his head whenever he tried to turn it off, so he just let it play. Even if every time he heard, ‘Covered in the sheets of my bed’, he felt sick. 

 

But now, he was thinking. He had fucked this all up so bad. Because he was drunk. Because he wanted to. Because it was Keith. 

 

Because Keith was nothing like the boys Lance usually took to his bed. 

 

The boys Lance usually slept with didn’t have black eyes and flower tattoos. They didn’t like to be bitten, they didn’t notice that Lance liked to be pushed around a little. They didn’t look like a reincarnation of Adonis in the dark. They didn’t ride his dick with absolute abandon. They didn’t have chapped lips and rough hands that so easily pulled him apart. They weren’t complicated, or scarred, or quiet, or special. They didn’t ensure that no matter how it ended, be it that night or fifty years from now, Lance was ruined for any person who may or may not come after.

 

They weren’t usually his friend of three and a half years, either. 

 

He listened to the waves crashing on the shore, spraying salt and a slight stench of ocean into the air. Lance took a deep breath to try to clear his mind. Tried to look at the facts. 

 

He had gotten drunk, and had sex with Keith. In the morning, he ran away to the beach. And now Keith was staying with Shiro. Probably because he realized he had slept with Lance. Who then ditched him in the morning. 

 

_ You shouldn’t have left him like that. _

 

Maybe it was Lance’s emotional turmoil, or maybe it was the hangover, but there was a faint outline of a person sitting on the beach next to him. A mirage. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his own upturned nose and sharp cheekbones. 

 

Space Lance. 

 

_ He’s probably confused. Hurt.  _

 

“Really?” Lance grumbled aloud at the ghost next to him. “He’s probably just as ashamed as I am.”

 

_ Ashamed? I thought you wanted him. Why are you ashamed? _

 

Lance shook his head. He wasn’t ashamed. 

 

_ You’re scared.  _

 

“Like you aren’t.” 

 

_ What’s that supposed to mean?  _

 

“Are you about to go make out with your Keith? Tell him how you feel?” 

 

Lance expected his counterpart to sputter. Be embarrassed. Deny everything. Not that he could. Lance had heard his thoughts, seen the dreams of the reckless and graceful figure with angry eyes. The memories of his own voice, Keith’s voice, calling for each other when things were too dangerous and too messy. ‘ _ Don’t you touch him, _ ’ was always Space Lance’s first thought. ‘ _ Never him. _ ’ 

 

_ That’s a completely different situation. We’re fighting a war. We can’t put anything else before that.  _

 

Lance turned to look at the paladin, the better version of himself, but found he couldn’t see him when looking directly at him. 

 

_ Besides, your Keith is...better adjusted? Yeah. Emotionally available. Healed. Mine...Dios, I don’t even know if he...yeah, totally different conversation.  _

 

“Lance!”

 

Lance turned around to see Hunk walking down the beach towards him, looking a little worse for the wear himself. The wind ripped at the tails of his bandanna, making him look like a warrior from an anime. 

 

Lance waved slightly and turned back to watch the ocean. Soon, Hunk was sitting in the sand next to him. He held out a paper to-go cup of coffee. Hunk was definitely the hero from an anime. Except, like, not the main character, because then he’d have a tragic backstory. Maybe like Sano from Ruroni Kenshin. He had a headband. 

 

“Thanks.” Lance said quietly after sipping the coffee. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Why are you here?” 

 

“Well, Keith said you just disappeared and...I kind of had a feeling. Call it a best bud vibe. And I knew you’d either be here or wasting all your money at Home Goods.” 

 

“What else did Keith say?” 

 

“Nothing. But he seemed pretty pissed.” 

 

Lance felt like he was going to puke again. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

Lance stayed silent, so Hunk tried again. 

 

“I’m guessing you slept with him?” 

 

Lance choked. “What - how - “ 

 

“We saw you two making out last night. Pidge took pictures.” 

 

“Pidge took pictures!?”

 

“Well, we knew you’d try to deny it later.” Hunk seemed almost disappointed to be right. “When you guys left, we just assumed...anyway. The rest of us stayed at Shiro’s cause no one was in any shape to drive, and we were having breakfast when Keith showed up saying he was going to stay there for a few days.” 

 

Lance groaned. Pictures. There were pictures.

 

“So...what happened? Did you guys get in a fight?” 

 

Honestly, Lance wishes that were the case. That would at least justify his behavior right now. What had actually happened was just...admittedly pathetic. 

 

“No.” Lance said quietly. “When I woke up I just kind of...ran. He was still asleep and I got in my truck and drove here.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“I don’t know.” Lance groaned, tugging at his hair. “Because I knew he’d wake up and regret it?”

 

“You think he didn’t want to?” 

 

Lance shrugged. 

 

“Lance, when was the last time Keith did anything he didn’t want to do?” 

 

Probably never. 

 

“I don’t know! We were both so drunk! And I just...wasn’t thinking and I ruined everything so I ran and now everything’s worse and I mean...we were finally getting along again and I just had to go and screw it up - “ 

 

“Lance, breathe.” 

 

Lance took a deep breath. 

 

“Look, I know why you’re panicking.” 

 

“You do?” 

 

Hunk sipped his coffee. “Because you like him.” 

 

“What? No. No, no. That’s not - “ 

 

“Lance, it’s okay. I’ve known for a while. You’re my best friend. I know how to read you.” 

 

Lance swallowed the dryness in his throat. “How long have you known?” 

 

“I don’t know. I guess I could always kind of tell? But it wasn’t until you came to me all upset because you walked in on him blowing that guy Danny in the bathroom at some party.”

 

Lance frowned. He had thought that was just some weird fever dream he had. “I don’t remember any of that.”

 

“Well, it was when you were dating Nyma.” 

 

That explained it. Dating Nyma in the spring of sophomore year meant Lance was railing a lot of adderall to party all night, get blackout drunk, and then skip classes to sleep. It had only lasted two months before she decided Lance was getting boring. There were a lot of holes in Lance’s memory from that time. 

 

“So, yeah. I always knew. I mean, you were always showing off or fighting for his attention. And when he left for California you kind of...you just withdrew.”

 

“Yeah, well, you and Pidge were busy.” Lance grumbled. 

 

“And you missed doing things with Keith.”

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“So, seeing as you finally got together with the guy you’ve been pining over for years - “

 

“I haven’t been - “

 

“ - why did you leave him?” 

 

Lance sighed and rubbed his eyes again. “Because it all happened so wrong. And we were drunk. He didn’t - “ 

 

“Buddy, I know you’re kind of a hopeless romantic. But it’s not like...look, you’re kind of past the first date stage.” 

 

“Hunk!” 

 

“Like, maybe if you weren’t busy being assholes freshman year but now, I mean, you live together.” 

 

“Don’t remind me.” Lance moaned. “Can we go back to how badly I fucked this all up?”

 

“But you didn’t.” Hunk looked down at him blankly. “I don’t think it could have happened any other way for you two. I mean, you could have handled this morning better, obviously, but…”

 

Lance snorted. Understatement of the year. 

 

“As for Keith not wanting to, I mean, why wouldn’t he? You’re fun. And handsome. And smart. Probably a beast in the sack.” 

 

“Alright, alright buddy.” Lance smiled. “Gonna start thinking you’re jealous.” 

 

“Uhm, of course I am. I’m just going to have to settle for the best friend title.” He smiled and paused before asking, “So, why are you scared of this? Is it because of your mood swings?” 

 

Lance shrugged. 

 

“I know you kind of...stopped dating because of it. But you said Keith had been helping you, so maybe - “

 

“It doesn’t work like that, Hunk.” Lance interrupted. “It’s...it’s always there. This hole. Some days it’s bigger than others. And I tried filling it with...alcohol and people but it doesn’t go away. Keith just...knows how to deal.”

 

“Well, isn’t that better than someone who thinks they know how to fill the hole?” 

 

“That’s not the point. He shouldn’t have to deal with it.” 

 

“Okay, that's where you lose me. What are you talking about?” 

 

“Look, we both know Keith has this...this trademarked Tragic Backstory. He’s dealt with so much shit and...I can’t possibly ask him to deal with mine too.”

 

They both sat in silence, listening to the waves. Lance pressed his feet deeper into the sand, feeling the icy wet layer beneath the cold dry one. When Hunk finally spoke, he sounded a little exasperated.

 

“Buddy, you have got to stop thinking you know what everyone else wants.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“I mean that maybe you should give Keith a chance to decide if he wants to deal with you. And seeing as he’s dealt with you this long, I think I know what the answer will be.” 

 

Lance sighed and watched the horizon again. “I fucked up.”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“He’s probably pretty pissed.”

 

“Yeah, he was this morning.” 

 

“I need to talk to him.” 

 

“You do. But maybe give him a few days to calm down.” Hunk stretched his arms above his head. “Have you eaten yet? I passed a Five Guys earlier.”

 

Now that he thought about it, his stomach felt like it was starting to eat itself. And those disgustingly greasy burgers were perfect for a hangover. 

 

“I haven’t had Five Guys in forever.” Lance admitted. 

 

They both stood, brushing sand off their pants. Lance picked up his shoes, deciding to continue barefoot until he got to the parking lot. Or maybe even his truck. 

 

“Hey, Hunk? Thanks.” 

 

Hunk’s arm shot out and pulled Lance’s skinny frame into a tight hug. “You can talk to me anytime, buddy.” 

 

“I don’t want to bother you.” 

 

“You couldn’t if you tried.” Hunk released him and smiled brightly. “Come on, those bacon milkshakes are calling my name.” 

 

“I forgot such a perfect thing existed.” Lance muttered. “Just, like, don’t let me get the jalapenos on my burger. I always forget they use fresh ones and I love them but fresh jalapenos don’t belong on a burger.” 

 

Hunk nodded. “They’re much better on a bahn mi.” 

 

“Or, like, literally anything. But not a burger.” They turned and started walking towards the parking lot, where Hunk’s silver Camry was parked next to Lance’s truck. “What the fuck am I going to say to him?” 

 

“Well, you’ve got a few days to think about it. But if you tell him everything you told me, I think you’ll be okay.” 

 

Lance considered it. “Does that include walking in on him blowing Danny?” 

 

“Uh, no. Definitely don’t tell him about that.”

 

~*~

 

_ Another day. Another day without Lance.  _

 

_ It’s all starting to manifest physically. Pidge hadn’t slept since she figured out what happened to him, and is working around the clock to build a device that will send someone to bring him back. Hunk looked pale, almost grey. Like when he suffered from an anxiety attack, except there wasn’t any blue-eyed Cuban boy to coach him through breathing exercises. Shiro is just irritable without someone who shared his sense of humor. Coran is pretending to be busy and to keep things in order, but it’s no secret that Lance is his favorite and his eyes and mustache twitch on their own out of worry and exhaustion and his empty stomach. Allura twiddles her hair and creates split ends, but her large eyes betray none of her thoughts.  _

 

_ Keith guards the door to Lance’s room. Because it’s the only thing he can do. He makes small talk with Lance’s parents, who are just as worried. He watches the nurses who come and go. He glares James away when he shows up again.  _

 

_ One model of the machine had already been built, but it immediately sparked and died. Pidge started on the second model. The idea was Allura would use her abilities to guide someone, with the help of the machine, down the path between Lance’s body and his essence. Basically hitch-hiking to an alternate reality. Unfortunately, so far it wasn’t realistic. _

 

_ When Lance’s parents leave for the night, he enters the room and pulls a chair up to the bed. Rationally, he knows this isn’t his fault. But Slav had said Lance should be able to come back on his own. But what if Hunk was right? What if Lance didn’t want to come back?  _

 

_ Keith was just as much to blame for that. Blowing him off. Lying to cover his actions. Anything to hide the fact that even after two years away he was still constantly drawn into Lance’s orbit. Like there was something telling him exactly where he had to be. Pretend that every time they’re captured, every time they’re pinned down, every worst case scenario, there is one name that springs from his lips before all others. _

 

_ Shiro dropped a granola bar into his lap. “You have to eat.”  _

 

_ Keith sat up straighter. “What?”  _

 

_ “You won’t do him any favors if you’re on your own deathbed when he wakes up.”  _

 

_ Keith sighed and rubbed his eyes. They burned from exhaustion.  _

 

_ “Anything yet?” Keith asked, ripping open the foil.  _

 

_ Shiro sighed. “Well, this one didn’t blow up until after they connected it to Allura’s quintessence so I’d say we’re getting somewhere.”  _

 

_ Veronica approached them, biting her lip and clutching her tablet to her chest. “Captain?” _

 

_ “McClain.”  _

 

_ She scratched the back of her head. “I wanted to say...I was out of line, the other day. It’s...not anyone’s fault. Well, the Galra’s, maybe, but...I shouldn’t have said those things to you, and Lance would flip if - “  _

 

_ “Veronica, it’s alright.”  _

 

_ It was so funny, Keith thought, as Shiro reassured Veronica that he understood. That she was under a lot of stress. It was funny that Veronica had the same facial expressions as her youngest brother. And she rambled the way he did.  _

 

_ “You’re right to blame me.” Shiro told her. “I was supposed to protect them. And I couldn’t.”  _

 

_ “That’s not - “  _

 

_ “But it is. And I know that we haven’t done a great job of showing it lately but we do care about him, Veronica. And we’re going to get him back.”  _

 

~*~

 

Hours later, after a very large lunch with Hunk, Lance nearly stumbled when he walked into his apartment. He felt nauseous again. Everything smelled like campfire. Probably from the jackets that had been hastily thrown on the couch. 

 

It was supposed to remind him of the game of Cards Against Humanity they had played. The amazing food. Their jokes. Now it just...reminded him of desperate kisses. Desperate like he knew all along the spell would break. 

 

Red approached and meowed, high pitched and whinny. Probably for food. Lance leaned down to rub his ears, but he hissed and bolted for the kitchen. 

 

In a way, he was relieved to see the nasty tempered cat. Keith leaving behind his cat meant he was planning on eventually coming back, right?

 

Or, maybe, Keith actually hated the cat as much as he said he did and was now dumping the ginger monster on Lance. 

 

Lance went into the kitchen and rolled his eyes at the full bowl of cat food. “You have food.” he told Red. 

 

He just stared up at him expectantly. 

 

Lance changed his water to placate him, then looked around. There were a lot of dirty dishes, his homework piled on the kitchen table. The door to Keith’s room tightly shut. 

 

He had to give Keith time to calm down before he apologized. Apologize for...leaving. Letting the alcohol get the better of both of them. Liking him. All of it. So, he’d have to wait. And distract himself. 

 

Luckily, Lance was pretty good at distractions. He could do this. 

 

A day later he was wandering around HomeGoods after his classes, trying to convince himself that yes, of course he needed new throw pillows. And hell yeah, he needed to get that tea-cake mold for Hunk. 

 

No. He could not do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever wander around TJ Maxx/Marshall's/HomeGoods when you're semi-depressed? It's dangerous. I mean, those stores are dangerous to begin with. Going when you aren't feeling yourself is just suicidal. 
> 
> Anywayyyy...the general plan is to kind of wrap up University Lance's story and then send Space Lance home. I will do my best to make Space Lance's return heartbreaking and tear jerking. Sorry, not sorry.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is finally honest with themselves.

It was an agonizing eight days until he heard from Keith. Halloween. 

 

Hunk had allowed him to send one text message. Just one. The rationale being that if he texted and called constantly Keith would either a)know Lance was insane or b)get more pissed. So he struggled with his wording for twenty minutes over cajun fries and came up with, 

 

**Lance: Let me know when you want to talk.**

 

Not a personal best, but he didn’t know what else to say. And he was forbidden from any explanations that were not face to face. Hunk told him he had to man up and do this, no matter what the outcome was going to be. 

 

After that, it was just waiting. 

 

Keith was at work, but Lance didn’t see him. Which was fine, they never saw each other at work. Lance never screwed up his tickets, so he didn’t have to go to the kitchen. Keith never left the kitchen, unless he was leaving for the day. 

 

He didn’t come to Queer Lit. Which was fine. Lance couldn’t judge others on skipping classes. He probably had things to do. It wasn’t because he was totally avoiding Lance. 

 

That didn’t stop Lance’s heart from jumping into his throat every time he saw a black motorcycle on the road. Occasionally even when he saw red sport bikes, like Keith had freshman year. Back when he called it a scooter just to piss him off.

 

He didn’t come home. 

 

Shiro didn’t say anything about it to Lance. He must have either decided he was staying out of it, or that he was pissed at Lance on Keith’s behalf. Lance did ask once how Keith was doing, and Shiro almost looked surprised. 

 

He could only imagine what Keith had told Shiro. 

 

Dios he had fucked up. 

 

Lance focused on school and work, and staying out of his suddenly empty apartment. Had a Ruroni Kenshin marathon with Hunk. Called his mother and his siblings. 

 

What the hell was he going to say to Keith? 

 

Space Lance was still occasionally visible. Wandering around the apartment on his own. Lance wasn’t sure if it meant that he was on his way home, or just more present in his mind. He didn’t talk much, thankfully, perhaps knowing Lance had enough to worry about. 

 

Halloween came and Lance got out of his genetics lab early. He was just starting to think about grabbing something to eat before his shift when Shiro called. 

 

“Hey, Lance, take the night off.” 

 

Lance blinked in shock. “Seriously?” 

 

“Yeah. Halloween is always dead anyway.” 

 

He wasn’t wrong. Halloween was a drinking holiday, and Altea’s cocktails were a little pricier than what people wanted to get trashed off of. But still, he was depending on his shift to keep him busy tonight. He didn’t have plans. He really hoped Shiro wasn’t doing this because of the Keith disaster.

 

Shiro wasn’t vindictive like that. Mostly. 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“Yes, Lance, I’m sure. Enjoy your night.” 

 

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked dumbly. 

 

He could practically hear Shiro rolling his eyes. “I don’t know, Lance, do whatever it is that college seniors do on Halloween. Go to a bar. Or a party. Get laid. I really don’t care.”

 

“Rude.” Lance gasped. 

 

“How is any of that rude?” Shiro asked incredulously. 

 

Lance gritted his teeth. Shiro obviously didn’t believe that the only lay Lance was interested in was currently not speaking to him. And because of that, he really did not feel like a party. And all the bars tonight would be loud and filled with people way too drunk.

 

“Have a good night.” he repeated before hanging up. 

 

Lance stared at his phone for a second. Then shook his head in disbelief as he dialed Hunk’s number. 

 

“Hey, buddy! Are you out of lab?” 

 

“Yeah, hey.” Lance scratched the back of his head. “Uh, so, Shiro gave me the night off. Are you and Pidge still having that Halloween movie marathon?” 

 

“Uh, hell yeah, we are. Pidge! Lance is coming to the marathon!” 

 

“Tell him to show up with candy corn or not at all!” 

 

“Did you hear that?” 

 

“Yes. Of course the gremlin would like something nasty like candy corn.” 

 

“We’re starting with Hocus Pocus at six.” 

 

“I love Hocus Pocus.”

 

Hunk chuckled. “Yeah, I know. Can you grab some reeses too?” 

 

“Yeah, sure. See you later.” 

 

“Oh, my God, I’m so excited. Okay, bye.” 

 

Lance hung up and looked at the time. Definitely enough time to run to the store and try to find some last minute candy. He hurried towards the commuter lot, waving at a few people he knew as he did. It took a minute to find his keys in his backpack and unlock the door. 

 

He didn’t notice the idling grumble of a motorcycle nearby. 

 

Lance turned his key in the ignition and the truck roared to life, and immediately cranked up the heat. It was chilly out. But before he could pull out of his spot a black motorcycle streaked into his rearview mirror. Blocking him in. 

 

“Oh, fuck.” Lance whispered. 

 

Keith turned off his bike and kicked down the stand, pulling his helmet up off his head. He turned and looked right at Lance, who stopped breathing. 

 

Dios, people thought Lance was the dramatic one. 

 

Keith got off the bike and came around the passenger side, helmet still hanging loosely in his hand. He reached up and knocked on the window. The truck was so old that it had the hand-crank window, so Lance reached over and popped the door open instead. 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Nice parking job.”

 

“Had to make sure you weren’t going to run off again.”

 

Ouch. He deserved that.

 

“Can I…”

 

Lance sighed. “Yeah, get in.” 

 

Keith jumped up into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut behind him. He sat his helmet in his lap and stared at his own reflection in the visor. 

 

“Why are you here?” Lance asked quietly. 

 

“Shiro told me I’d get the night off if I came and talked to you.” 

 

Oh. So Shiro does care. 

 

“Look, Lance, I get it, okay? You obviously didn’t want - “

 

“No, you don’t understand - 

 

“ - I mean, you practically ran away when I tried to kiss you so - “

 

“Just stop talking - “ 

 

“If you want to pretend it didn’t happen, fine, just - “

 

“I really like you, okay?” 

 

Keith’s mouth shut with a clink of his teeth. Lance looked away with a huff. 

 

“No, you don’t.” Keith finally said. 

 

“Don’t tell me what I feel.” Lance snapped.

 

Of course this would be an argument, Lance thought as Keith sputtered. What on Earth did he expect? A calm rational conversation? 

 

“But you...you can’t…”

 

“Why can’t I?” Lance asked incredulously. “It’s not like we don’t have a good time together. From paintball to stupid shit like grocery shopping. It’s not like you’re not gorgeous. And surprisingly soft. And kind.”

 

Keith’s face was bright red. “But then...why did you leave?”

 

Lance sighed and looked away. “Because I didn’t...I couldn’t watch you wake up and realize you made a mistake.”

 

Silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. 

 

“I’m not whole, Keith.” Lance tried to explain. “I’m not...fuck. It’s stupid, alright? Liking you when I couldn’t possibly hope to give you what you deserve. I mean, look how I reacted the other night. Morning. Whatever. The point is I...even on my best days, I don’t feel like a real, whole person. And I’m not sure I ever will. Especially not now with this...fucking Space Lance, bouncing around my head. Pining after his own Keith, cause Dios, does that guy have it bad. Worse than me, honestly - “

 

“Lance. Breathe.” 

 

Lance took a deep breath. He finally calmed down enough to look at Keith next to him, who had a completely unreadable expression on his face. Something unsure and wild and...Lance was not ready for what he said next. 

 

“Come on. I want to show you something.” 

 

Keith got out of the truck, slamming the door again behind him and waiting patiently. Lance barely knew what he was doing as he turned off the engine and stepped down to the parking lot. Keith started walking in the opposite direction Lance had come from earlier, away from the familiar safety of the science building.

 

He had no idea what was going on. What Keith was thinking. What he wanted.

 

If Keith didn’t think he was an idiot before, he certainly did now. Blurting his feelings before babbling about his mental illness and fucking imaginary friend.

 

He must have been lagging behind, because suddenly a hand gripped his wrist to tug him along. He looked up to see the back of the other boy’s head, hair bouncing slightly with his determined gait. Beyond him, the art building.

 

It wasn’t like his last trip here. This time, his guide led him straight bast the galleries and to the stairs. Passing an open door, they heard a lecture about old fashioned photographic technique. Another space was being set up for a reception.

 

Keith didn’t seem phased by any of it. Just tugged Lance along, looking anywhere but at him.

 

They reached Keith’s studio space, and Keith dropped his arm to turn on the lights. Lance looked at the table by the windows to find his heart in his throat. Keith’s Duality project. 

 

Uncertain, Lance moved towards four statues, the four torsos he had seen the last time he was here. But now they each were topped with a bald head, cast from the face molds Keith had taken of everyone over a month ago. Even without hair and spray painted black, the faces of his friends were recognisable. A small white card leaned against each torso, titling each. 

 

“I kind of...got through my road block.” Keith was explaining, as Lance moved closer to look. “Had a lot of time on my hands with...avoiding you, I guess. I might add Allura and Coran later but for now...I liked how these themes fit.” 

 

**_The Darkness in the Light_ **

 

Shiro, the neck and torso tightly wrapped in white LED fairy lights. Tight like if they were on the real person they’d suffocate him. There’s a splash of white paint across his forehead, almost mocking his haircut. 

 

**_The Delicacy in Strength_ **

 

Hunk was clothed in a carefully woven wire vest. Thin silver wires crossing over each other to create a stronger surface. It must have taken Keith forever to weave that. A dripping heart spray painted on the vest, bright and vibrant and overflowed. 

 

**_The Tenacity in Courage_ **

 

Pidge had a theme somewhat similar to Shiro’s. Dried leaves had been painted acid green and strung on thick wire. The vines were loosely draped over the torso, then climbed up the neck and clung to the face. The mouth had been slit open for one of the vines to crawl inside. The wires were carefully looped and bent, sturdy and wild.

 

**_The Pain in the Smile_ **

 

Then Lance. Lance’s statue was hands down the most complex, had obviously taken the most work. His torso was the one that had been cut away, just shoulders resting on a metal stand. This was to reveal the iridescent blue insides of a mussel shell hanging from a string underneath, smashed to pieces then carefully reformed in the shape of a heart. Then rebar, wrapped around to enclose the empty space in a cage. 

 

Lance is the only one that’s smiling. 

 

Keith was talking but Lance was awestruck by his own bust, the caged broken heart. He felt...overwhelmed. A lump in his throat and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or laugh. 

 

“Why are you showing me this?” he finally asked, cutting Keith off. 

 

Keith took a deep breath. “I just...I’m trying to tell you...I see you.” 

 

Lance looked back at the sculpture. 

 

“I see how you try to...hide things. So that people won’t worry. And how you think that you can push away all the bad until you’re alone so that no one has to see. How fiercely you love everyone around you, even when it hurts. And I know you do it all because you care, but you have no idea how infuriating it is to have to watch.” 

 

Keith was watching him, intense gaze on his back, his neck, his shoulders, his skull.

 

“I’m trying to tell you I don’t think it makes you less of a person. I think that broken things just give you the opportunity to make something new out of the pieces.” 

 

“I don’t…” Lance tried to swallow the painful lump in his throat, but his stayed exactly where it was. “Keith I...You can’t want someone who’s...empty.” 

 

“Don’t tell me what I feel.” 

 

“Keith - “

 

“In my experience, empty people don’t light up a whole room when they talk about something they love. Empty people don’t hold on to their family truck, or sing along to every song that plays, or find a reason to argue with me about just about every vegetable I want to buy.” 

 

Keith was behind him, gently pulling him around to see his face. His eyes searched Lance’s face, but he had no idea what he was looking for. 

 

“I don’t think you’re empty, Lance. I think that you have bad days where you can’t find all the pieces. But that’s alright. If you’ll let me, maybe I can help you find them.” Keith smiled wryly. “I mean, we’ve always operated better together than separately. We’ve always made a good team.”

 

Lance didn’t even know what to say to that. And honestly, the lump in his throat was making speaking painful. Instead, he grabbed the front of Keith’s shirt and hauled him in for a kiss. Just like last time, Keith froze up for what felt like an eternity before finally kissing back. Moving with him, pulling him closer. Lance relaxed his grip on his shirt and let the kiss soften from desperate to something pleasant and then to nothing - just holding each other with their foreheads touching. 

 

His lips were still chapped, the coffee taste in his mouth was almost metallic, and there were bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping. Lance wouldn’t have him any other way. 

 

“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Lance asked quietly. 

 

“Yeah.” Keith smirked. “I miss my cat.” 

 

“Asshole. You hate your cat.” 

 

“So...what do we do now? We kind of...I think we did this backwards.” 

 

Lance sighed. “Yeah it’s probably a bit too late to ask you out, huh?” 

 

“I mean, I already know all your gross annoying habits.” 

 

“I am not gross, Kogane. I fart rainbows.”

 

“You leave toothpaste scum on the sink, you never do the dishes, you let mold grow in your coffee cups - “

 

“That is in the name of science.” 

 

“Yeah? I want to see your results.” 

 

“You wouldn’t understand it. It’s high level biology stuff.” 

 

“Uh-huh.” 

 

Lance’s cheeks were hurting from the first smile he was wearing in days. It threatened to tear his face in two. Keith’s eyes were sparking with amusement. 

 

“I’m supposed to go to a movie marathon at Hunk and Pidge’s place.” Lance suggested. “We could go and act all giddy and nervous and shy. Drive them up a wall.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like us.” 

 

“No. We could go and act totally normal, like we’ve been dating forever, and just be really confused when they ask what happened.” 

 

“Pidge will short-circuit.”

 

“I know. It’ll be great.” 

 

Keith snorted. “Okay. I have to get my stuff from Shiro’s and make sure you’ve been feeding Red - “

 

“Excuse-me, I take better care of the cat than you do!”

 

“You don’t snuggle him.”

 

“Because he bites!” 

 

“I’ll meet you there in an hour?”

 

“Yeah. I have to get candy corn for Pidge anyway.” 

 

Keith smiled. “I love candy corn.” 

 

Lance gently shoved him away. “Nevermind, you’re a demon just like Pidge. I take everything back.”

 

“What! Lance! You can’t just - “

 

“I can’t believe you like candy corn!” 

 

“I made a sculpture of you, you asshole.” 

 

“A very small sculpture. Out of trash.”

 

“It’s part of the message!”

 

Lance laughed, and Keith stopped looking like he was going to tear his mullet out. Lance knew, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back for another kiss, that he’d probably end up paying for the teasing later. 

 

But he really didn’t care. Because it was Keith. And this was who they were. 

 

So really, an hour later when he knocked on the door to Pidge and Hunk’s place with candy and wearing three-dollar cat ears he had picked up, he should have seen it coming. Keith opened the door and Lance grinned at him. 

 

“Trick or treat!”

 

Keith stared at him for three seconds, then slammed the door shut. 

 

“Keith!” 

 

“You said, ‘trick or treat’ Lance.” Keith’s amused tones floated through the door. “I went with trick.”

 

“You’re supposed to go with treat and give me a kiss!”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

 

“You’re my plus one, asshat! Open the door!” 

 

~*~

 

_ “It’s done!”  _

 

_ Keith jerked awake, almost smacking foreheads with Pidge, who was leaning over him. Her amber eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion and wide with excitement.  _

 

_ “What?” Keith asked. _

 

_ “It’s ready! We can send someone to get Lance!”  _

 

_ “There is a 0.003% chance that in this reality - “  _

 

_ Pidge spun around and pointed a finger in Slav’s chest. “No! It is going to work!”  _

 

_ Hunk was talking excitedly to Shiro and Allura, and Veronica was sitting on the edge of her brother’s bed, frowning in thought. Coran was pushing a silver box on a cart with a lot of wires into the room.  _

 

_ “Okay, we just have to decide who is going to go.” Shiro said, and everyone quieted. “Allura and Pidge have to operate the machine, so they’re staying here. Hunk, you’re - “ _

 

_ “I don’t...I’m not sure if he wants to see me.” Hunk said, with a good amount of uncertainty. “I mean, Veronica said - “ _

 

_ “I’ll go.” Keith volunteered.  _

 

_ He felt everyone looking at him.  _

 

_ “I mean, I’m his…” _

 

_ His what?  _

 

_ It was a nasty voice in the back of his head that asked that. One that sounded a bit like Lance, but with all the malice of James. It was Lance when he aimed for the jugular, when he actually wanted to hurt. Keith rarely ever heard that voice in real life, and never once directed at him.  _

 

_ You’re his what? _

 

_ What claim do you have that’s higher than his best friend? If Lance doesn’t want to see Hunk, he definitely won’t want to see you. After all, you made sure of it. You made sure that you weren’t his friend anymore.  _

 

_ Because the truth is, when he came to you about stepping down, the only thing that scared you more than the cracks in his facade was the fact that he felt he could talk to you. And you can keep lying to yourself, and say you left to find your family. You can even say you left so he could shine.  _

 

_ But really, you left before he could leave you.  _

 

_ “No.” Veronica announced. “I will.”  _

 

_ What claim do you have that’s higher than his sister? His sister who he tells everything? His sister who knows how much pain he’s been in, while you’ve been too busy to notice? _

 

_ “You can’t.” Keith argued, grasping at straws. “Pidge said he got into this mess in the first place because our brain chemistry was altered by the Lion’s quintessence. You haven’t been exposed - “ _

 

_ “I was onboard the Atlas when it transformed. That would have initiated a change.” _

 

_ Pidge hesitated. “I mean, I can run some scans quickly, but it’s risky. Keith is the better option.” _

 

_ “He’s my brother. If anyone’s going in after him, it’s me.” _

 

_ “Veronica, it’s dangerous.” Shiro warned.  _

 

_ “We’re fighting a war, Captain. Everything is dangerous.”  _

 

_ “The MFE’s need you as a leader. Earth needs you.” _

 

_ “My brother needs me more.” she replied evenly. “And quite frankly, the universe needs the Paladins more than it needs an analyst.” _

 

_ “Lance wouldn’t want - “ _

 

_ “Lance wouldn’t want any of us to do this. But luckily, he’s not here to make the decision.” She turned to Pidge. “What do I have to do?”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, probably just one more chapter left. :) Thanks to everyone who stuck with this. I hope the finale turns out as good as I've been planning.
> 
> In other news, does anyone have any reading suggestions? Nothing I'm following has been updated in the past week or so and I'm getting a little bored.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way things are supposed to be

Waking up happened slowly. 

 

The room is cold, mostly because Lance refuses to turn on the heat until December first, if not later. He freezes at night, but it was better than struggling to pay the gas bill. Sunlight creeps in the window, making the walls and blankets glow with golden light. Lance rolled over and snuggled closer to the heat source next to him, burying his face in thick hair and getting a sleepy grumble in response. 

 

Wait…

 

Lance’s eyes shot open to find a very naked Keith in bed with him again, and this time he didn’t have a gut instinct to run. Well, maybe a little bit. But he didn’t act on it. 

 

No, this time he smiled and rested his hand on Keith’s hip, fingers splayed out as if he were going to pull the forget-me-nots from the skin. 

 

He wondered if Keith would ever have the patience to let him count them. Probably not. Maybe while he was sleeping…

 

The coffee grinder turned on. 

 

Lance sat bolt upright. Someone was in the apartment. Keith groaned and curled in on himself, but stayed asleep. Great, the fucking samurai wants to sleep in, and Lance, who is useless with anything but a paintball gun, has to deal with the home invasion. The damn coffee grinder always sounded like an airplane taking off, and yet somehow Keith always slept through it.

 

Lance swung his legs out of bed to pull on underwear and grabbed his bathrobe off the storage ottoman where he tossed it after his shower every day. It was probably just one of his million family members, he tried to rationalize. Or Shiro, who also had a key. 

 

Though when he showed up after work at Hunk and Pidge’s last night to catch the end of Corpse Bride and found Lance and Keith cuddling on the couch like they had been dating for years, he very loudly announced he was not showing up uninvited to their apartment. Pidge, who actually was prone to that type of behavior, agreed immediately. 

 

Lance saw a red and white blaster on his desk - a bayard, he thought - but grabbed his paintball gun from the bottom of his closet instead and left the bedroom. Keith was still covered in blankets and dead to the world. The jackass. 

 

Lance’s heart pounded as he crossed the living room, trying to be silent. He was being so stupid. Who robs a house in broad daylight? And makes coffee? 

 

Paintball gun raised, he stepped into the kitchen. “Put your hands - Jesus Christ, Luis!” 

 

“Hey, Lance!” 

 

His brother Luis grinned at him, leaning next to the coffee maker with his arms crossed over his chest. A guitar case and a duffle bag had been lazily tossed on the floor near the fridge. 

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Ah, just passing through. Figured I could stay here, then I remembered your spare room is now ocupado. Where is your boyfriend, anyway?” 

 

Oh, shit. 

 

“Ah…”

 

Nope. Nope. He literally got together with Keith yesterday. He is not telling his family until...well, not now. Even if they already think they were together. Especially because they already thought they were together. Everyone was going to be absolutely insufferable about this and he was not ready to deal with that.

 

He just wanted one day of just him and Keith. And Luis had to show up and ruin it all.

 

“Why are you here?” Lance repeated, setting the paintball gun on the counter. “You never stay unless you have a gig.” 

 

“Well, we were a little worried about you. You sounded kind of down when you called the other day. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You and Keith get in a fight or something?” 

 

Jesus Christ, it was like his brother was psychic. 

 

To make matters worse, Lance felt arms slipping around his waist and a face being pressed into his shoulder. Luis had the biggest shit eating grin on his face while Keith pressed his whole body against Lance’s.

 

“Why are you up?” Keith grumbled. 

 

“Uhhh...my brother’s here.” 

 

“Hey, Keith.” Luis greeted. 

 

Keith just nuzzled Lance’s shoulder. Holy shit, morning Keith was suddenly a whole new level of adorable. Too bad Lance was too busy being absolutely mortified to really appreciate this. He wanted to pick up the paintball gun and shoot his brother in the face just for being a witness.

 

“Come back to bed.” Keith whined. 

 

Lance was going to have a heart attack, here and now. Less than twenty-four hours after dating him, this boy would be the death of him. And not because of any of the equally wonderful things his mouth and other body parts were capable of. Nope. It was a tall order of death by cuteness for Lance McClain. 

 

“Y-yeah.” Lance stuttered. “Uhhh...I’ll be there in a second.”

 

Keith released him and shuffled back to Lance’s room. Thank god he had pulled on his boxers and t-shirt from the night before. 

 

“So…” Luis drawled. 

 

Lance scowled at his brother. “Shut up.” 

 

“Is he coming to Cuba with us? When’s the wedding?”

 

“I...screw you. Keith is not coming to Cuba.” 

 

“I guess I am staying in the spare room then. I mean, Keith’s not using it.”

 

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

 

Luis grinned at him. “I’m happy for you, really. Aside from lying to all of us - “

 

“I wasn’t lying.” Lance grumbled. “We got together, like, yesterday. So it’s a really bad time for you to stay here.” 

 

“Sorry, little bro. Bus home doesn’t leave till tomorrow. And your hot bartender friend said I could play at White Lion tonight. You’re stuck with me.” 

 

Lance grimaced. “I’m going back to bed.”

 

“Have fun. And, uh, Lance?”

 

“What?”

 

“Nice hickey.” 

 

Lance spun on his heel and stomped back towards his bedroom while his brother howled with laughter. He was going to murder Keith for leaving a mark high enough to be visible, no matter how adorable and cuddly he was. 

 

Lance locked the bedroom door behind him and stripped off his robe before getting back into bed. Keith immediately wrapped an arm around him and snuggled close. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t murder him.

 

“You smell like sex.” Keith mumbled. 

 

Nevermind. 

 

“Whose fault is that?” Lance asked loftily. 

 

“Yours.” Keith yawned again, scrunching up his nose. “Mmmm...what’s in Cuba?”

 

“Hm?” 

 

“Your brother asked if I was coming to Cuba.”

 

“Oh. We’re taking a family trip for Christmas.” Lance made a concentrated effort to stare at the ceiling. “Luis is probably going to try to get you to come but...don’t feel any pressure.” 

 

“Mmmm...what would we do in Cuba?” 

 

“Well, we’d eat a lot of food. Maybe go dancing with my sisters. I could teach you how to surf.” 

 

“I don’t know how to swim.”

 

“Well, I could teach you how to swim, then how to surf.”

 

Keith sighed into his skin. “Sounds nice.”

 

“Keith, you can’t come to Cuba. If you go with me, I’ll trap you there and just never leave. All my favorite things in one spot.” 

 

“That’s the shittiest way to say you’d miss someone that I’ve ever heard.”

 

“I was being romantic, jackass.”

 

“You tried to break up with me because I like candy corn!”

 

“Yeah, and you tried to break up with me because I suggested we watch Halloweentown, which is a classic.”

 

“Lance, no one likes Halloweentown, okay?”

 

“Excuse you, our generation was raised on that movie. And Zenon Girl of the 21st Century.”

 

“What?” 

 

“Oh, I forgot you grew up under a rock.”

 

“I grew up in Texas.”

 

“Same thing.”

 

Keith ghosted his fingers down Lance’s side to tickle him, and he jerked and grabbed the offending fingers. Space Lance’s ghostly outline crossed the room, disappearing through the door as if he wanted to give them some privacy. Out of the corner of his eye, Lance noticed the distracted look on his face. 

 

But then Keith propped his head up on an elbow to lean over and kiss him, and Lance forgot about pretty much everything else. 

 

~*~

 

That night after work, Lance and Keith headed for the White Lion to meet up with their friends. Pidge was getting drinks from the bar and pointed them towards the table Hunk was holding near the small stage. Luis was doing a quick sound check, and looked up to wave at his brother. 

 

“Hey, guys.” Hunk grinned as they sat. “How was work?” 

 

“Fine.” Keith shrugged. 

 

“Everyone tonight was an asshole.” Lance complained. 

 

Keith sipped his beer while Lance launched into a story about a guest, jumping and almost spilling his drink when Lance casually reached over to rest a hand on his knee. Luis started greeting the bar on the stage, explaining he was just going to ‘dick around and play some covers’. Pidge came over and eyed the new couple. 

 

“See you two haven’t killed each other yet.” she observed. 

 

“He’s tried to break up with me three times since breakfast.” Lance whined. “Doesn’t seem to realize he’s stuck with me now.” 

 

Keith smiled slightly. 

 

_ “Lance?” _

 

Lance’s head snapped around. Space Lance was leaning against a wall nearby, appearing casual but actually at attention. He had heard the voice too, a woman’s voice. 

 

Luis strummed the guitar, and this close to the tiny stage and speakers, everything else was drowned out. 

 

_ “Lance, it’s time.”  _

 

_ Lance turned around, pulling his gaze from the university-student version of himself, and saw another ghost in the crowd. Curly hair, glasses, grey Garrison uniform.  _

 

_ “Veronica?” He walked over to her, noting how tired she looked. “What are you doing here?”  _

 

_ “I came to make sure you were awake. It’s time for you to come home.” She smiled slightly. “You fell and...this isn’t your reality.”  _

 

_ “Yeah, I know.”  _

 

_ “Well, let’s go! Everyone misses you.” _

 

_ “No, they don’t.”  _

 

_ The words came out harsher than he wanted. Or maybe they didn’t. He didn’t care.  _

 

_ “Lance, don’t say that...they need you.” _

 

_ “They can find another paladin. I’m sure Axca or James would be up for the job.” He snorted. “And if you need a sniper, well, Kinkade’s pretty good. So, yeah.” _

 

_ “Ryan Kinkade is not nearly as good of a sniper as you. As for a paladin...it doesn’t work like that and you know it.” She shook her head. “And that’s not the only thing that matters. They need their friend.” _

 

_ “Their friend.” Lance repeated, feeling the anger surge.He’s being a brat, and he knows it. “Right. Well, I have friends here. Friends that actually want me around. So I’ll just melt back into this Lance’s conscience and enjoy feeling loved again. You know, having a best friend Hunk who actually comforts me when I’m down. A leader Shio who actually believes in me. And I have him here.” _

 

_ Veronica looked up and saw University Keith leaning into University Lance to tell him something. University Lance rewarded him with a smile and a quick kiss. _

 

_ “I…” Veronica looked so lost and confused. “You love...Keith? But I thought...the princess…” _

 

_ Lance looked away. “Allura’s...it was like that, yeah. For a long time. But Keith is...we’re the same, you know? And opposites. And completely unattainable so of course I want him.” _

 

_ On the stage, Luis jumped as he launched into the heavier part of a Gaslight Anthem song.  _

 

“I was fortunately desperate and turbulently innocent.

I was living underneath my body weight.

My eyes were swollen green and hazy, sick from grief and hate and envy,

I was crawling up inside my head.”

 

_ “Lance…” Veronica finally said, sounding pained as she had to speak the truth. “That Keith...he’s not for you.”  _

 

_ Lance closed his eyes tightly.  _

 

_ “He...he belongs here. With that Lance. Just like you belong with us. With your Keith.” _

 

_ “Veronica, I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”  _

 

_ “Did you know he’s been sitting outside your hospital room since you got knocked out? Like a guard dog. I think he’s been sleeping in the room at night. I wasn’t going to tell you because I thought...well I didn’t think you thought of him like that.” _

 

“And all I seemed to find is that everything has chains.

And all this life just feels like a series of dreams.

Selected poems and lovers I can't begin to name.

And all in all I find that nothing stays the same.”

 

_ “He wanted to be the one to come and get you but...I remember how we talked about how you thought he was pushing you away so I said I would…” _

 

_ Thank God. Lance had no idea how he’d talk his way out of Keith coming here to find him wanting to live vicariously through an alternate reality relationship with him.  _

 

_ Veronica’s ghostly image flickered slightly.  _

 

_ “He’s waiting for you Lance. I think he’s been waiting for a long time.” _

 

_ Lance snorted. “Keith would never put aside the war for a relationship. Certainly not for me.” _

 

_ “But you wouldn’t have him any other way.”  _

 

_ Lance wanted to cry. His sister was right. Curse her, she was always right.  _

 

“And I was crazy like the moon for you and head over my heels for you.

And never would I change or compromise.

But something in my mind does things I can't contain for anything.

Last night I don't think sleep even touched my eyes.”

 

_ “Come home, Lance. Tell him how you feel. Tell all of them. You can’t just...bottle these things up and hope they’ll go away or fix themselves. Only you have the power to change your life.” _

 

_ Veronica flickered again.  _

 

_ “Pidge said I wouldn’t have long before the connection faded. You should be able to come home on your own. All you have to do is...want it.” _

 

_ “Don’t tell him.” Lance whispered. “Please...don’t tell any of them.”  _

 

_ “I won’t.” his sister whispered back, reaching forward to loosely take his hand. Like when they were kids, whispering secrets by flashlight so their parents wouldn’t hear how late they were staying up. “That’s up to you.”  _

 

“And all I seemed to find is that everything has chains.

And all this life just feels like a series of dreams.

Selected poems and lovers I can’t begin to name.

And all in all I find that nothing stays the same.”

 

_ “Veronica, look, maybe after the war. I don’t want to...distract him, especially if he doesn’t want...I can’t just put the safety at the entire universe at stake just because I fell in love.”  _

 

_ “But don’t you think it would be worth it?” _

 

_ “Of course I do. But he wouldn’t.”  _

 

_ Veronica flickered more consistently, and Lance knew the connection was breaking.  _

 

_ “Come home.” she begged. “I promise...Lance, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes, you belong with your friends, with Voltron. You belong with your Keith, even if...even if you can’t tell him the truth right now.”  _

 

_ “I - “ _

 

_ Veronica flickered three more times, then disappeared completely. Shell shocked, Lance walked back towards his University counterpart, everything his sister had said jumbling and swirling in his head.  _

 

“And all I seemed to find is that everything has chains.

And all this life just feels like an idiot dream.

Selected poems and lovers I won’t ever see again.

And all in all I find that nothing stays the same.”

 

~*~

 

_ Veronica’s eyes fluttered open and she gasped before slouching forward in her seat. Slav caught her in his many arms, his long body bracing against her weight. Allura’s white glow faded, and the grey box sat innocently on her lap. Hunk chewed his lip as he took the box and checked it for visible damage. _

 

_ “Did it work?” Keith demanded, helping Slav push her back into her seat.  _

 

_ Veronica looked up at him with an odd expression on her face. Like she was meeting him for the first time.  _

 

_ “Did you find him?” Keith asked.  _

 

_ She pulled the electrode cap off her head. “I...yes. I found him.” _

 

_ “Is he alright?” Pidge asked. _

 

_ “He’s safe. He...I think he’s coming home.”  _

 

_ “You think?” Pidge snatched the cap away from her. “That’s it. I’m going to get him.“ _

 

_ “Pidge.” Shiro sighed. _

 

_ “I’ll drag him back if I have to.”  _

 

_ The door opened and Keith’s mother leaned in. “Keith, Kolivan needs to speak with you.”  _

 

_ “Not now.” Keith snapped. _

 

_ Krolia scowled at him. “Now, Keith.”  _

 

_ Panic flashed across Veronica’s face as Keith made to stand. She grabbed his wrist.  _

 

_ “Don’t.” Veronica begged. “He...you have to stay here.”  _

 

_ Keith looked over at Lance, still comatose. Shiro was watching him, worried. Keith thought about their conversation in the memorial hall, about choices and what you put first.  _

 

_ “It will just be a minute.” he told Veronica, pulling out of her grip.  _

 

~*~

 

Luis played a great show, filled with heart wrenching songs that somewhere between his soulful voice and dark eyes made most of the girls in the bar go weak in the knees. Lance himself was busy going weak kneed over the boy sitting next to him, but that was okay. Because that boy was his now, so he could admit those things. 

 

He hardly noticed Space Lance drifting along when they loaded Luis’ equipment into the back of his truck and drove home. He was too busy groaning in embarrassment while Luis told Keith every horrible relationship gone wrong story about Lance, because that was great for day one of a relationship. 

 

“Then he left his girlfriend at the state fair because Mama told him he had to come home or he wouldn’t get any arepas.”

 

“I was fifteen!” Lance groaned. “And I knew Mama hated her, so if I didn’t go home it would be much worse.”

 

“That’s all it took?” Keith asked incredulously. “You left your high school girlfriend for some arepas?”

 

“Babe, I’d sell you out for a corn chip. Don’t ever think any differently.” 

 

Keith rolled his eyes and unlocked the apartment door. Lance dragged his brother’s amp inside and dumped it next to the couch. Luis yawned and ruffled his hair before saying goodnight and heading to Keith’s room for bed. 

 

“Guess you’re staying with me again tonight.” Lance smiled slightly. 

 

“Guess so.” 

 

And every night after that, if Lance had anything to say about it. 

 

Space Lance was sprawled on the couch, watching them glumly. Lance glanced at him, worried, but Keith was tugging him to the bedroom by the wrist. He’d talk to him about it tomorrow. 

 

~*~

 

_ It’s hours later before Lance enters the bedroom. They’re asleep, holding each other, not a care in the world. Reality would catch up eventually - University Lance still had no idea what he was going to do about his career and his mental state and Keith was going to be a starving artist for a while, but they’d work it out. Fight the battles that this reality offered. They might as well enjoy the honeymoon stage while it lasted. _

 

_ Lance looks down at their sleeping bodies and wants to cry. How did he never notice how perfectly they fit together? University Keith is clutching at University Lance’s t-shirt like he knows something is wrong, like he can feel Lance leaving… _

 

_ Except he’s not. Because that Lance is going to stay with that Keith. Hopefully for a long time. Hopefully they’ll be happy.  _

 

_ Lance reaches with an opaque hand to run his fingers along Keith’s jawline. “I love you.” he whispers. _

 

_ He means it. He loves Keith Kogane. He loves the sweet innocence under the hard exterior. He loves the idiot who thought he had to wait for his space wolf to tell him his name. He loves the quiet man who goes about the world with blazing fists. He loves his dedication, his refusal to leave anyone behind. Lance would follow Keith anywhere, fight any army, do anything, if he would just ask.  _

 

_ This Keith pales in comparison to his own Keith, he thinks, but this Keith is perfect for this Lance. This Keith who liked to snuggle in the morning and go to the farmer’s market just to spend some time with his Lance. Who made strangely beautiful and painful sculptures of his friends that revealed too much about their nature.  _

 

_ He may never be good enough for his Keith, but these two were together, at least.  _

 

_ “I’ll love you in any universe.” Lance continued. “No matter who we are, even if you don’t feel the same. It’s not going to stop.”  _

 

_ It didn’t matter who they were. He knew that now. University students or paladins, space-cowboy mercenaries or post-apocalyptic cyber punks. As long as he was at Keith’s side, he would be alright. Because like it or not, they were two sides of the same coin. Compliments. Opposite but the same.  _

 

_ He just had to hope that in his reality, his Keith felt the same way.  _

 

_ Lance sighed and stood, picking up his helmet. “Just, uh...tell him. My Keith. If you have a way to.” _

 

_ Lance turned away from the sleeping figures, biting back tears. This wasn’t his life. It never would be. But it was time to go home.  _

 

_ He picked up the red bayard from the desk, and white light enveloped him. _

 

_ Lance’s eyes snapped open, and he sat bolt upright. Wires were stuck to his forehead, straining against a grey box as he moved.  _

 

_ “Lance?” _

 

_ “Lance!”  _

 

_ A weight slammed into him, and he heard laughter. He looked down at messy honey-gold hair and the bright orange of a Garrison cadet’s uniform. Pidge was hugging his middle tightly.  _

 

_ “Hey, Pidge.” he choked. “Loosen up a bit, will you?”  _

 

_ She pulled away and he was wrapped in a tight bear hug from Hunk instead. “Lance, we’re worry.” he mumbled in his ear. “We’re so sorry.” _

 

_ “It’s alright.” Lance said, no idea what he was forgiving. “Hey, I’m alright. Just was asleep for a bit.”  _

 

_ “A week and a half.” Shiro corrected with a wry smile. “How do you feel?”  _

 

_ “Stiff.” He looked at Veronica, sitting next to him with concern in her eyes. Allura looking like she was about to pass out herself. “Good to see all of you looking...normal.”  _

 

_ “What was it like?” Pidge asked.  _

 

_ But Lance was distracted as he looked around at the familiar faces. One was missing. There was no dark haired figure leaning against a wall and scowling.  _

 

_ “Hey, uh, why isn’t Keith gathered at my sickbed?”  _

 

_ He had tried to play it off as a joke, but the words made everyone silent.  _

 

_ “He got called away.” Allura said hesitantly. “Kolivan needed to speak with him.” _

 

_ Air rushed around Lance’s ears as his heart shattered into a million pieces. He had prepared himself for this. He always knew Keith would put the war and his duty as a leader first. He had tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. That if Keith didn’t want him he’d be fine.  _

 

_ But maybe Veronica’s reassurances had gotten to him.  _

 

_ “Let’s give Lance some air.” Shiro suggested gently, resting a hand on Hunk’s shoulder and steering him out of the room.  _

 

_ “But - “ _

 

_ “We’ll let your parents know that you’re awake.” Shiro said, glancing at the McClain siblings.  _

 

_ Veronica nodded, and everyone filed out of the room. Lance had his eyes tightly shut to stop their stinging. He said he would be fine. He took a few deep breaths and opened them again.  _

 

_ “Lance, I’m sorry.” Veronica whispered. “I tried - “  _

 

_ “It’s fine.” Lance muttered. “I’m used to him leaving. Besides, it’s like you said. I wouldn’t have him any other way.”  _

 

_ He looked at his bedside table and caught sight of a small bouquet of sunflowers. It reminded him of a sunny day and plastic tents, the smell of fresh vegetables and colorful heirloom tomatoes. And a boy who awkwardly offered him flowers, half asleep and along for the ride.  _

 

_ “What are those flowers from?” he asked with a dry throat.  _

 

_ “The MFE’s sent them.” Veronica said gently. “Kinkade said they were your favorite.” _

 

_ Not knowing why, or what he was doing, Lance snatched up the vase and hurled it against the open door with all his strength. Veronica shrieked as glass, flowers  and foul-smelling water sprayed everywhere. Lance took a few deep, shaky breaths.  _

 

_ “Sorry.” he whispered to his sister. “I just...I don’t like sunflowers anymore.”  _

 

_ In the hallway, the others had heard the noise and turned around to see what had happened. They stopped short of the room when they saw the mess.  _

 

_ Slav nervously knotted his many fingers.  _

 

_ “Oh.” he said quietly. “So this is that reality.”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so...don't get mad. 
> 
> In my defense, I did warn you at the beginning that this fic would tie into cannon no matter what happens in S8. 
> 
> At the same time, I hate myself for writing it but the idea would not leave me alone. And I feel awful, and I'm sorry.
> 
> I may be writing a separate epilogue/sequel but I haven't really decided if I have enough material yet. Otherwise I'm going to work on I Hope I Never Have a Daughter. 
> 
> I'M SORRY DON'T HATE ME I WANT TO WRAP LANCE IN BUBBLE WRAP AND BLANKETS AND I'M SORRY FOR ALL THE WRONG I DID IN THIS.


End file.
